Full Circle
by Stand Alone Battle A.I
Summary: Join Hrist, as she continues her quest across midgard, to ensure that everyone gets their daily recommended dose of iron. With an iron sword
1. Back to work

_In these silences something may rise. – Stephen King_

_Silent _. Is not a word that many people would associate with the small country town of Bellane. Though quiet, the town on a normal day would be bustling with people, visiting the many open venders and shops. Children could always be heard laughing and playing in the creek that ran right down middle near the town square. The constant _ping _of hammers hitting an anvil was always in the air as blacksmiths made everything from swords to farm equipment. Quiet is the word that people might use as the town did not have the size or population of a full city, but never silent. However though this was not a normal day.

The ominous silence was interrupted by a low hum, followed by a single brilliant bead of light that descended from the sky that slowed as it touched down in Bellane's market district. A brightened flash put everything in a violet hue for a moment as a shimmering Valkyrie materialized. Long flowing black hair and dark armor that was trimmed with gold glimmered in the sunlight. She rose from her kneeling position, as a set of black ethereal wings spanned a full 15 feet before vanishing in a flurry of sparks and feathers. Through her helmet Hrist Valkyrie took survey of her surroundings. She instantly took note of the silence that hung in the air that accompanied by the smell of death. Bodies lay strewn about on sidewalks and on the streets. Trash was everywhere. Everything was covered with a light coating of soot from various fires that had been left to burn out of control, and have long since burned out. The entire town was in ruins. The goddess walked up to one of the bloated bodies, and saw the dark red splotches covering the exposed parts of his skin.

xxxx

_Hrist opened her eyes and saw chunks of crystal on the floor quickly evaporating like ice on the desert sand. Knowing instantly she had been awakened, she felt the life force from the tree of Yggdrasil flowing freely through her. As always it was empowering and warm. She tilted her head to look up and saw lady Freya standing along side to...Rufus? Why? _

_Then it hit her all at once. Memories of Alicia, her sisters, Lezard, Arngrim. Everything came rushing back like a wave. The victorious fight and impending death of Alicia and her sisters. She raised her head to allow her summoners to see her face under the visor of her helmet. From what she could see, they each had an expression of concern in their eyes. Did they still see her as a threat? She did not blame them though, they each had their reasons. Freya was the first to speak. "You may rise Hrist." She stood and soon found herself in the warm and loving embrace of Freya. Evidently all transgressions had been forgiven for using the dragon orb against her. Freya broke the embrace and Hrist turned to face Rufus who was rubbing the back of his head looking sheepish. "It's good to see you again Hrist. Can you tell me what you remember?" _

_"I..." Hrist paused for a second, considering her answer. "Remember everything... And I am sorry for your loss. Alicia gave everything to save us." She was a little surprised that she could still remember everything. But then again she didn't just come from a full cycle of rebirth. She had spent her time in a crystal, healing her damaged soul. Reassembling the Goddess Valkyrie had cost them greatly. Rufus was caught off guard by her response. Knowing that unlike herself or the other Valkyries Alicia wouldn't remember anything beyond rebirth. The easy going smile vanished for only the briefest of moments before returning. "Thank you."_

_Hrist had another question on her mind. "I do not see Odin… Are you…?" Rufus gave a sort of wistful sigh and Freya turned her head away. _

_"Well uh, I'm sort of the one in charge around here. There's been a lot changes around here. The first is allowing you to keep your memories" It was strange to feel the aura of Gungir on someone so unimposing as Rufus, she looked to Freya who would not meet her gaze, but didn't fail to notice the saddened look she had on her face. If Freya herself said nothing to the contrary then it must be true. Hrist had no other desire to continue this line of conversation, so she decided that it was best to get down to business. She turned to Rufus again. "Are we in need of Einherjar?" Nobody seemed to mind the change in subject, but Rufus bore a grim look. Hrist figured that the situation was not good. Perhaps Rognorok was upon them? _

_"We'll never say no to some extra Einherjar but that is not your primary mission this time." Hrist's interest was piqued. When she said nothing Rufus continued. _

_"There is a pretty big problem in Midgard. There is some sort of... Uh sickness going around. We need you to go down and sorta fix it." Sickness? What? What the hel could she do about that? She knew a few basic healing spells but she was a battle maiden, not a doctor. Freya took to the air in a mock sitting position, crossing her powerful legs. " Really, my lord? _This _is how you intend to brief a goddess of fate?" Though she was clearly irritated, it was better than the somber look she had a minute ago._

_"What my _lord_ is trying to say. Is that there is a corruption in the form of a plague ravaging the lands of Midgard. We do not know the source of it, but we know that it is not natural. Someone is using the dark arts."Freya spoke with an air of authority. Rufus need to work on his communication skills as the all father. But at least he had till the end of time to work on them. _

_"We think that if you can find the source, you might be able to halt this from continuing any further. Your mission is to infiltrate, investigate, and eliminate. Do you understand?" _

_Hrist nodded and turned to Rufus "I shall find those responsible, and they shall reap your vengeance my lord." Before the last part left her mouth before she realized that she had made some sort of error. With a mental kick to herself, she remembered that this was not the vengeful Odin she was dealing with. This was Rufus and he was nothing like her former master. Sensing her discomfort he held up his hands. "Its alright, granted I want you to use your best judgment, but things are pretty bad down there. We need this stopped soon... So pretty much I'm authorizing an 'any means necessary'" Hrist nodded then lowered herself to one knee. "I understand my lord." _

_Rufus instantly looked uncomfortable "Er, uh. You may rise… again. And please call me Rufus." Hrist rose to her feet and gave him an acknowledging nod "of course lord Rufus" He shrugged. "Close enough."_

_xxxx_

As a Valkyrie, Hrist had pretty much seen every creepy thing in all of Midgard, from dark caves to crypts used for mass graves in her hunt for Brahms. But nothing says 'ominous' quite like a Ghost Town. There wasn't even a single bird in the sky as they and every other animal were not immune to the red death. While staring at sunburned bloated corpse that somehow found itself on the slanted roof of a nearby inn, she raised a hand and called forth her Einherjar.

With a small dance of light 3 figures took a sudden corporeal existence from thin air. Two of them large and one was of average height. The smallest of them was an archer named Roderick, found north of Bellane and was no older than 20. Very handsome with his messy mop of brown hair and easy smile. He was an instant hit with most of the female population, something he never took advantage of because of the wedding ring he wore with pride. He was found in full battle dress amongst a company of troops that were leading an evacuation from the plauge riddled city of Elsweyr. Unfortunately some of the evacuees were hiding symptoms of the plague. Unaware that some of the citizens were infected they all died within a day.

Then there's Cromm the largest of the three. Big and burly, he had bright red hair that wrapped around his bald head like a tiny island. His face was almost hidden behind the massive beard that was braided all the way to his chest. He was a good old fashion, strait off the boat, Viking. He was also found in Elsweyr, in the shipyards by the docks. He and the rest of his crewmates had arrived to do what Vikings do best. Pillage the docks and burn down the shipyards to prevent pursuit. But the joke was on them! The docks and pretty much that whole part town had been placed under emergency quarantine. And the Vikings arrived just in time to join the citizens on a very short and painful end at the hands of Red Death. Normaly Hrist did not condone such actions, but in the end the pasts of the Einherjar will not matter when Rognorok comes. Then last but not least there was Arngrim.

Xxxx

_Hrist wandered the halls of Valhalla. Rumors that the Valkyrie had been awoken had traveled fast. So she was not at all surprised and a little hurt that that all of the Einherjar seemed to be avoiding her. Einherjar would most of the time jump at an opportunity to join a Valkyrie on a mission. If even just for a reason to go do something other than sit around and do nothing. She did not actually ask or even order them to come with her. But she could see it in their eyes. Some looked at her with hatred while others just seemed nervous around her. All of them whispered to each other when they thought she wasn't looking or couldn't hear._

_She felt like a monster. _

_Hrist supposed that it didn't really matter since she was only looking for one Einherjar in particular. Valhalla had no clocks to speak of but she knew it was after dinnertime, so she knew he would probably be napping. But rather than heading into the dormitories on the lower levels, the Valkyrie started poking around the various stairways. After what seemed like forever, she finally found what she was looking for. _

_The large man in heavy armor lies still near the bottom of a long flight of stairs. She wondered how someone could possibly be comfortable on something as unsmooth and as hard as stairs. _

_She hesitated to approach him._

_Though she had stood before her sisters as an enemy, the three Valkyrie sisters had reconciled their differences in a way that only family could. But things between her and Arngrim were different. Though Arngrim and she may have found themselves on the same side at the end, they didn't have time to work out their differences like her sisters and herself. She would never voice it, but she feared what he might think of her. She was tired of having to be alone and keep a straight face. Hrist's loyalty her Einherjar was absolute. But it always seemed like her duty made her out to be the bad guy. The fact that the staircase wasn't filled with the impressive noise of Arngrim's snoring meant that he was awake. _

"_Arngrim, I have been awakened, and have been assigned a mission on Midgard." She said. She waited patiently, gauging his reaction. _

"_So?" Hrists heart sank a little, feeling that what she feared may in fact be true. She mulled over her next words carefully and decided that she may as well just lay her cards out on the table. She always preferred a direct assault anyway._

"_Arngrim please listen to me...I…I am sorry." He snapped his head up with a "huh?" He looked at Hrist at the bottom of the stairs. Her head was faced down so her visor was hiding most of her face. She looked like a child awaiting her punishment. "I was a fool to not have realized that Odin was truly wrong. I am sorry that I did not I did not listen to what everyone was telling me…especially you and Silmeria." _

_Arngrim sat up from his resting spot, unsure of what he was hearing. He remained quiet as Hrist Valkyrie went on with her apology. "You…are the closed thing that I have ever had to a real friend. And I am sorry for taking your life from you." Arngrim stared at her with an astonished look on his face. Like at any moment he was going to wake up and find that he DID fall asleep on the stairs._

"_I will not order you to come to Midgard with me." The battle maiden let out a regretful sigh. "Just…please, do not hate me like everyone else." There. She had bared her soul to him and now the next move was his and his alone to make. She never looked up, but she could hear the rustle of clothing and heavy armor as Arngrim lumbered himself to his feet and made his way down the stairs to her, stopping only a few feet away, she awaited his answer._

"_What the hel are you talking about!?" Hrist looked up to see an amazed look on his face on his face. "Hrist the things we did down there, we did together. Hell I was the one who executed the poor kid's dad. What happened to you is the same thing that happened to me. We saw what she was fighting for and we realized that we were wrong." He studied the somewhat hopeful expression on her face and continued. "I'm just a mercenary Hrist, I was promised OTH and treasure. When I was down there, I was just doing my job. You're a Valkyrie… why the hel am I gonna blame you for doing yours?" The goddess cleared her throat and put a neutral look on her face. "I see… So will you come with me to midgard then?" _

_Arngrim stretched with a cocksure smile on his face. "Hel ya ill come with you. This place sucks; I'm ready to go out and kick something's ass." Hrist Valkyrie turned away from him so that he wouldn't see the light smile that graced her features. "Very well Arngrim. I shall explain the mission on the way to the water mirror." After a couple of seconds Arngrim caught up with her and was walking at her side. _

"_So we're like best buds then huh?" he teased _

"_It would be ill-advised that you push it." The goddess deadpanned._

_xxxx  
_

Hrist watched as her Einherjar looked around. Roderick brought his hands to his nose. They had seen many places with this level of devastation, but the archer still couldn't used to the smell. Not even Hrist knew if Einherjar could hurl. The sickly pale color seemed to indicate yes. Rod was kind of irritated that Cromm was so unaffected by this. But then again he spent months at a time on a ship, with a bunch of other sweaty, unbathed Vikings. So maybe this wasn't so bad.

Hrist turned her back to them and surveyed the streets "Arngrim I want you to move south along this main road, and see if you can find something out of the ordinary." Arngrim nodded obedienty. "You two. I want you to head south, but not too far. You have not been Einherjar long and will weaken the farther you stray from me. Am i understood?" They each nodded a response and Roderick gave a salute. "Good we shall meet back here in a couple of hours. I sense a worthy soul nearby." Now that everyone understood their parts they separated, but they did not make it far. "Hrist!" She heard Roderick cry out. The mighty valkyrie whirled around, ready to defend her Einherjar, only to find the archer pointing like a grade school-er, tattling on someone to his teacher. Cromm was bent over trying to work a gold ring off a corpse. "He's looting again!"

Hrist slapped a hand to her face in frustration. "What have i told you about that!" she stormed over, stopping a only a few feet away. Even in her armor, His sheer bulk dwarfed her body in comparison. "I will not tolerate my Einherjar going around stealing from the dead!" The massive Viking put his hands up in a calm-down-crazy-lady manner. Arngrim crossed his arms and leaned against a tattered building with a smirk of amusement. This was going to be good. But even he dropped his jaw at what Cromm said next.

"Look just calm down missy, he's not gonna be using it anytime soon. There's no need to get yer skirt in a bunch now is-" Cromm never got to finish as Hrist swung a massive halberd that she definitely was not holding a second ago. The blade came so close that he actually heard it whistle by and felt the breeze it left in its wake. The sound of something soft hitting the ground, made him look down. To his horror he saw his beloved braided beard lying on the ground. He would have killed any man on the spot for such an offense. But before he knew it, he found himself staring down the shaft of her mighty weapon. The pike so close that he had to cross his eyes to see the point.

"Do you have any thing else to add?" Hrist asked with deadly calm in her voice. She took the 'uuuuhhhh' and the sweating of his forehead as an answer. "No? Then take this as your last warning to show the dead your respect. Furthermore you shall refer to me as Lady Valkyrie or Hrist from now on. Do you understand?" Cromm nodded nervously. It's amazing what you'll agree to when you have a pike in your face.

"And finally, if you _ever _mention my skirt or any other part of my body in a manner that I disapprove I _will _send you back to the cycle of rebirth, and I will_ not_ make it pleasant." She unsummoned her weapon uncaring if Cromm had gotten the message or not. He has been warned, if he crosses the line again Hrist very much intended to make good on her promise. She turned her head to Roderick who was being a little too smug for her taste.

"You! Nobody likes a tattle-tale." Hrist scolded "As your valkyrie I will always guard your back as if you are my own. And as my Einherjar I expect nothing less from you. But you must always help each other, and nothing will be accomplished if you are out here bickering like children." Roderick gave a sharp salute, with a 'yes ma'am'. Rod didn't have a beard, so he was pretty sure that what ever Hrist cut off would be sorely missed. Arngrim whistled to himself. One lesson that all Einherjar learned very quickly was that you never back-talked your Valkyrie, especially if your Valkyrie was Hrist.

Then her head whipped to the last one. "Arngrim! Just what the hel are you smiling about!" He jumped knowing he had been caught. "Uh nothin boss. Just happy to be out here." She scowled, not buying it for a second but willing to let it go. "Then go be happy where I told you to be!" 'Scurry' is the word that many people would use to describe the departure of her men. Finally alone she could get to her own duties as a Valkyrie. She closed her eyes and began to hone in on the soul.

Xxxx

Roderick walked with Cromm down the street taking great care to not step on any of the bodies that were strewn about like a like a proverbial mine field. It made the horror of what he was seeing easier if he tried to imagine they were something else. Rod pictured them as horse crap from Elswyre's Cavalry division. Those horses dropped bombs that he swore were as big as him sometimes. So here Rod was walking down the street dodging huge horse crap. Well, at least Roderick was. Cromm was more focused on the impossible task of re-attaching his braided beard.

Realizing that his plan was just simply unfeasible he dropped it in defeat. He kind of wanted to give it a tiny Viking funeral with its own little boat and everything, but this was neither the time nor place. With a sigh he looked around, then leaned in close with hand near his mouth like he was conspiring something.

"Did you see what that crazy she devil did to ma beard?" he whispered "I've been growing that since I was nothing more but a wee lad!" The fact that he was whispering even though no one was around didn't dawn on Roderick. "Ya I saw it. I was there remember?" Rod whispered back "You can't just go back-talking a.... Why are we whispering?"

Cromm looked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You saw it. The lass pulled a friggen halberd out of mid-air! She has superpowers!" Cromm offered as if it explained everything.

"Superpowers sounds stupid. She's a Valkyrie: a god." Rod continued whispering. Though he wasn't sure why.

"See? How do you know she's not using her _godly_ hearing to listen in on everything we're saying _right now_?" There was a moment where they just sat there and stared at each other. Then they both shot up bolt straight, simultaneously.

"Well i'm sure that milady Valkyrie has many abilities. And I can only say that i'm glad to have the honor of fighting alongside such a noble goddess." Rod said in an unnaturally loud and forced voice.

"Aye, I too am truly honored. To be allowed to be given the chance to stand by such a lovely vision of beauty." Cromm spoke just as loud and equally awkward.

"But surely not as honored as I. She is like the sunrise that shines over the hillside at dawn."

"Pah! Is that all lad? To me she's like the sunset that settles over the sparkling sea!"

"Booooring. To me she's like the rainbow that graces the sky after a storm!"

"Oh please, the lass even more beautifuler than the Aurora lights in the frozen north!"

"Beautifuler is not even a word Cromm!"

"See? Words can't be used to describe her beauty!"

Xxxx

Completely unaware that that a contest of stupidity was quickly reaching the levels of epic. Arngrim was doing some investgating of his own... at the towns local pub of course. It wasn't that he wasn't taking the mission seriously. He wanted to stop the plague as much as anyone else, more so than others in fact. Its just that he and Hrist have been at this for a couple of weeks now, and they have nothing to show for it. When they came down from Asgard they were expecting to find some giant plague spreading monster. To which they would kick its ass, save the day, and a very grateful Hrist would make out with him, while holding a giant mug of ale just for him. At least that's the way it worked in the special directors cut of his fantasy. (The unrated version couldn't be mentioned in this T rated fanfic) But It didn't work that way at all. They found the plague. It was friggen everywhere, but what they needed was a starting point, some lead to point in the right direction. So as of two towns ago he was trying a completely new tactic. He was going to let the answer come to him. They searched and searched with no results, mostly because they had no idea what they were looking for. So he was going to rely on his seemingly endless supply of dumb luck.

This was not to be scoffed at folks. Dumb luck was one of the corner stones of being a mercenary. Most tombs were death traps. Literally, as in they were actual traps for the purpose of death. As it turns out, all the training in the world didn't mean a damned thing when you step on some randomly placed pressure plate, and got an ass full of poisoned darts. You see it all the time too. Walk up to some cave or tomb and you see a buncha heads on some pikes or some dusty skeletons at the bottom of a spike pit, and all you can think is 'poor unlucky bastard'. Arngrim felt the welcoming crash of the beer buzz settle in. Turning his head and he stared at one of the town folks that had died, propped up against bar with its head down.

"What do you think? Got an opinion?" The corpse didn't say anything. "You either huh? Well if me or Hrist could get our foot in the door, we might be able to stop this." He poured a second mug and pushed it down the bar. It slid to a halt right in front of him (or her. They were pretty rotted at this point so it was kind of hard to tell). He raised his glass to his new friend.

"Here's to dumb luck" Arngrim tipped his glass. He managed to down the whole mug when he saw it. A tiny glint in the window that overlooked the street to the east. He set his hlass down and watched... There it was again there was something shiny out there. It was probably nothing, but his gut told him to go check it out. His gut has never steered him wrong before.

Except of course that one time when it got him on the wrong side of a Valkyrie's halberd. But even a good gut can have off day right?

Xxxx

Hrist let herself be guided by feeling alone. This was her process of finding Einherjar. She sought out battlefields where thousands of solders had died in their wake. The trick was to let yourself be drawn in by the strongest. Only the worthy could be felt above the others. She followed her institutions till she found herself standing above a single body amongst the hundreds that lay strewn about the street. He looked no different from the rest of the dead. Images of this man raining fire, ice, and lightning upon his enemies raced before her. _Mylan, A Mage. _She soon realized. Hrist valkyrie leaned down to whisper to the decrepit form.

"Rise chosen of the fallen."

With a slight humming noise a 40 year old man stood above his own body. He was handsome for a man of his age. Salt and peppered hair covered his head. His face was weathered, a trait that only came with age and years of experience. He saw the armored woman before him. He took in his surroundings, and of course took note of the corpse before him.

"Are you a Valkyrie milady?" he asked though he already knew the answer. One of the first things they taught in the mage academies were who the gods were.

"Yes mortal, I am Hrist Valkyrie, chooser of the slain, Goddess of fate." Hrist allowed the words to sink in. Knowing already the next question that was coming.

"I've been chosen haven't I?" He was answered with a warm smile from her before she spoke.

"Yes. You have been chosen. The gods are in needed of your service... Will you come with me to Vallhala?" This was a necessary process for mortals to become Einherjar. A mortal has to give up all ties. They no longer served king or country. They couldn't be allowed to see a loved one. It was actually a pretty hard decision to make.

"Can anything be done for the townspeople..." he gestured around "Or my wife?" He turned his head to a modest sized home on the corner of his street. The goddess nodded slowly "No, the only thing I can offer is that their deaths will be avenged." Hrist offered solemnly.

This shook Mylan out of the trance he was in as he stared at the destruction of the streets "vengeance? Was this plague intentional?" Hrist nodded then explained "Yes this plague was indeed the work of someone using the dark arts. My mission is to halt its progress and reap judgment on those responsible." And just like that his choice was made. He dropped to knee as he spoke.

"The answer is yes, battle maiden. I shall rain down the elements on all those who choose to step in your path." there was a flash of light as his body took a corpereal form. Suddenly solid he took a step foreword. Hrist took a moment to note the position of the sun. It was almost time to rendezvous with Arngrim and the others.

"Come Mylan, I will take you to meet your fellow Einherjar." The old man offered an elbow with a fatherly smile. "You'll not see me decline an offer of escorting a young lady." Hrist raised an eyebrow before she casually accepted. The old man was a charmer at heart. They both started down toward the town square together and Mylan began to speak. "So is there anything I should know before I meet them?"

Hrist seemed to mull over her response. "I have only the most honorable of Einherjar. Two of them have only recently joined me, but Arngrim has been with me for a while…" as they walked she continued to tell stories of their achievements.

Xxxx

"I don't really know what im looking for." Roderick said as he overlooked the destruction. Cromm was busy using what was ironically a barber shop window as a mirror and was fussing with the remanents of his ruined beard.

"Are you even listening to me?" Rod groused. Cromm responded, though without turning away from his task. "Aye lad, the lass said we we're looking for something that probably didn't belong." Rod sort of shrugged. Nothing actually belonged here. These bodies belonged in a grave, all the trash wasn't supposed to be on the street, hell even they didn't belong here. He was supposed to be alive and enjoying his wife's dinner and warm embrace. And Cromm was supposed to be… doing whatever it was Cromm does when he's by himself.

"Well she's going to have to be more specific. Because this is pretty much what I expect in a town ravaged by death."

Cromm paused for a second and looked at him through the reflection of the window "Now now lad, there's no need to be like that." He said like he was consoling a younger brother. "At least better than the last place we were at. We couldn't even walk around without getting our shoes stuck on one of those plague fliers."

Roderick was about to respond when something dawned on him. He didn't see a single poster or flier warning about the threat of plague. When he was a guard for Elsweyr, part of his duty was to update the fliers throughout the city as the courier brought them weekly. It was a tedious task and they mostly contained just updates about new laws and taxes, and names of fugitives on the run. But when the plague hit Midgard they brought warnings everywhere. Mostly just to warn the population of what symptoms to look for.

"Hey Cromm, I think you're on to something..." Cromm turned to face him from the window. Rod nearly fell over in shock.

"You think so? It was pretty bad, but I think I managed to salvage ma beard into somthin decent." Cromm looked absolutely ridiculous. He puffed the edges out as much as he could. it looked like a big red puff ball that got sliced off at the bottom. And since he bald on the top, this made his head look like a big red church bell.

"uh... No that's not what I meant." Roderick couldn't take his eyes off the Vikings chin. That little bit of pink looked like the dangly thing that hung in church bells. What was it called, a clapper? Gods he looked ridiculous. "I mean the lack of plague warnings." Cromm looked a little confused for a moment.

"Really? What do you think it means?"

"I'm not sure, but it's something right?" They both began searching random parchments that littered the sidewalks for something with a date on it. Not easy since they all had been left in the rain and blazing heat of the sun. It was Cromm who came up victorious with a shred of paper that was left in the hallow shell of a wagon.

"this one has a date on it lad" he squinted "It looks like the end of spring." Rod dropped his own and came over to the hulking Viking.

"That's like what? Five months ago? My garrison began getting those fliers for no more than three weeks ago. Cromm I think this town was hit long before that!" The Viking gave it some thought and tilted his head. Rod was half expecting to hear his head ring. "You know lad, that might be the clue she was lookin for. Lets get back to the meeting point before we're late." They both nodded in agreement. "So lad, what do ya think of ma beard, its not bad right?"

It was.

On the bright side Cromm never had to worry about ever getting another STD, nor any illegitimate children. The facial hair would enforce sort of an involuntary abstinence.

"Oh It looks great! Its too bad I can't grow a beard, I'm totally envious." Roderick lied through his teeth.

"Really lad!? Well your face is like a babies ass. Not a hair on ya. To bad, we could'v been beard buddies!"

The archer shook his head solemnly "Life is just so unfair. "

Xxxx

Hrist walked with her new Einherjar to the meeting spot, not 30 feet from where they first arrived. Arngrim had already set a few stones in a small circle, intent on staring a fire. Rod and Cromm were chumming it up nearby. The sun was already taking an orange hue, and would soon be setting. This to was also part of the routine Arngrim and herself were getting used to. Soon one would go and forage the town for any food. The wooded areas hit by the plague would leave them devoid anything worth eating. And finally they would gather around a fire to discuss what they found and where to go from there, and then they would all get some sleep and head out in the morning.

Hrist made her presence known and brought Mylan around to meet everyone. Starting with Roderick and Cromm.

"These two are my most recent aside from yourself." She told him on the way over. Her eyes suddenly squinted in suspicion at the behavior of the two. Cromm was suddenly very interested in the ground and Rod was trying (and failing spectacularly) to fake nonchalance by whistling a tune. He was now very quickly remembering that he had no idea how to whistle.

Mylan studied the young archers face. "It helps if you pucker your lips more." he said, trying to be helpful. "I'm Mylan by the way."

"Hi,... I... Uh" While the two were massacring the english language. Hrist was genuinely concerned. Did something happen out there? Did they meet some sort of enemy that cursed her Einherjar?

Nope.

On the way back to the camp, they got to talking about what other godly abilities Hrist probably had. Sometime after heat vision, but way before they got to frost breathe. They had convinced themselves that the Valkyrie could read minds. So without either of them actually saying it, they both vowed not to think of Hrist valkyrie in any way that might be deemed inappropriate. A stupid move on their part because the second they did that, their minds did exactly the opposite. It didn't even help that Roderick had a wife. Every time he tried to think of her in their most romantic moments a 'certain someone' would make a sudden guest appearence. And Cromm? Well, Hrist was a good foot taller and 60 pounds heavier… we're not going to go there.

"You may speak if something is wrong. You both look like you have a lot on your minds"

"I love my wife!" Roderick screamed, fainted, then fell backwards. Cromm sort of snuck off in the confusion.

"I'm unsure of what has just happened." Hrist declared. "But we shall move on." Turning their attention to the big man who had just started a small fire in the pit, they strolled over.

"Arngrim meet Mylan, he shall be joining us from now on." Hrist turned back to the mage. "He is the one that I was telling you about." She glanced back to where Roderick still lay, Cromm was nowhere to be seen. She was kind of surprised that a man so large could hide so effectively well.

"When you get a chance. Figure out what is ailing those two. I find that I do not have the patience nor the the energy." Arngrim stood and gave Mylan a nod. The standard greeting of manly mercenaries. This was also common amongst others with similarly manly job titles, such as lumber jacks, pirates, and ninjas. Unfortunately mages don't fall in the 'nod' column. So Mylan merely returned the gesture with a shy wave. He never liked fighters; they were always all brawn and no brain. He would have said something witty and demeaning but Arngrim was probably about two and a half times his weight. And was carrying a sword that was as long as he was tall, he decided to leave it be.

"No problem boss," Arngrim said to the Valkyrie, but both Hrist and Mylan were blasted by the smell of ale.

"Arngrim, have you been drinking?" She asked point blank. He opened his mouth as if to protest, but then decided against it.

"Ya, I'm a little sloshed." He admitted. Hrist clenched her fists and took in a deep breath. Keeping ones voice at high volumes was a test of fortitude, but Hrist was a woman who was up to the task.

"Arngrim you ingrate! What in the Gods has posses you to go out and get drunk while on a mission!"

As he watched the berating of the mercenary, Mylan could only shrug to himself. At least he joined the winning team, he thought.

Xxxx

One time while out in Midgard Hrist had seen a giant flying demon called a Wyvern, pick a screaming man up off the ground and devour him whole. It was like watching a dog with an oversized table scrap, as it didn't really chew him so much as it used its massive jaw to work him down its throat. She remembered watching this with a mixed feeling of fear and disgust, the sound alone will probably haunt her for the rest of eternity.

"Can ya tell me what's in that jar in the corner there?" Cromm asked as he pointed to the corner of a small wooden crate that was closest to Roderick. He nodded and picked up a small glass jar that held something that was kind of yellowish red, and held it at an awkward angle so he could use the light of the fire to read it. "Uh… its peaches." The large Viking's eyes lit up, as he extended his arm. "Toss that over here will ya lad?"

Another nod and he tossed it to him, and he caught it gracefully in his large hands. Arngrim perked up and inquired if there were anymore, Rod discovered that there were several. "Give me one too." Another toss and he caught it just as gracefully as Cromm.

There was a small _Fwop _as they twisted off the tops and breaking the vacuum seal. Hrist stared dumbly as both heavy warriors poured the contents strait into their mouth. They weren't even chewing. They were just kind of working it down their throats…

"There's another jar here if you want Lady Valkyrie." She snapped her head to Mylan who was holding another jar of peaches and a spoon. (There was plenty of silverware available since half of the team wasn't using any.) He evidently had evidently caught her staring. "No thank you" she said with a small wave of her hand "The tree of Yggdrasil provides my body with everything it needs." No one in the history of Valhalla would ever tell you that they have ever seen any of the three Valkyrie's ever eat anything, ever. But if you're lucky and there was a big reason to celebrate, like the victory of a major war. You might actually see a Valkyrie sipping at a glass of wine, but even that was kind of pointless because Valkyries were immune to all poisons, which meant that alcohol didn't affect them in anyway.

Hrist waited for them all to finish eating, and soon there was the sound of spoons (that only Roderick and Mylan were using) hitting the bottoms of empty jars. Hrist cleared her throat, sending a very clear message to her Einherjar that it was her turn to speak and they were now getting down to business. When she saw that she had their attention she spoke. "We must decide what it is that we are going to do tomorrow. But first am I to understand that you men may have found something?" Arngrim, Cromm and Roderick nodded. For the first time since she came out here Hrist felt a surge of hope course through her, and a sense of pride for her Einherjar. "I am pleased to hear this." She pointed to Cromm and Rod "You two go first."

They nodded and Cromm spoke first. "Aye Lass, what we noticed is what we didn't find. We looked and there's not a single flyer for the plague to be found in this hell hole." Hrist looked a little deflated and hoped that they had more than this. Roderick continued "Ya, there's also a lot of things that are not right about this town. The front gate's are wide open, not even any guards posted up. We were hearing rumors about the plague for a good two weeks before the flyers were distributed through the courier. The first thing my garrison did was lockdown the entrances and keep a lookout for any travelers who looked sick. Before we knew what we were looking for, anyone who so much as sneezed was immediately arrested." The Valkyrie considered this for a moment, and decided that this was a good point. "Is it not possible that the courier does not come this way? Or that they did not hear of this?" Hrist asked as Roderick shook his head. "Unlikely" he looked to Mylan "I've seen merchant stands here. Merchants are always on the move, and are great place to for rumors or news on whats going on in the rest of Midgard. Plus these guys pay taxes here so that courier has gatta come here" Hrist smiled at the two "You both have done very well today. I am impressed." She turned her attention to Arngrim, who was pulling out what looked like an expensive looking thermos. He handed it to Hrist who began her own examination. It was some sort of container but it was opened and empty, the inside was very shiny. "I found that lying out on the street. Check out the inside, I can't confirm it, but I think its lined with pure mythril." Hrist was shocked, mythil was a very valuable metal. Impossible to corrode, it was often used to make fine jewelry. Her own armor was made of the metal.

"That thing is probably the single most valuable item in this town." Hrist fingered the heavy latches and seals. "What do you think it was used for?" Arngrim shrugged "I dunno, I doubt anyone's using it to keep soup warm though."

Mylan moved in to get a closer look. "May I see that?" Hrist glanced at her newly acquired mage for a second, then handed him the cylinder. "I know what this is." He said after a few seconds of examination. "This is an Exigency Container… a damn good one too" The blank stares and the thoughtful nod that Cromm was totally faking indicated that he needed to explain. "These are used mostly by alchemists. Sometimes they make or need something that's too dangerous to be carried in something like a wooden barrel. They're extremely tough, and are pretty much guaranteed not to open if you drop it"

"Do you think it was used to carry the plague?" Arngrim asked and gestured toward the the corpses littering the street. Under the moonlight they looked like nothing more than dark lumps on the ground. Mylan gave it some thought, "There's no way to tell, but nobody commissions one lined in mythril unless they have something really dangerous." He handed it back to Arngrim. "But if I had to carry something like this plague _this _is what I would use." With renewed sense of vigor at the actual progress, Hrist inquired if there was anyway to tell who owned it or where it was made.

Mylan nodded "I'm afraid not milady, this container is a complete custom job and I don't see a stamp anywhere."

"What about the mythril?" Everyone turned to Arngrim and he continued. "That stuff is expensive, and its hard to mold. Jewelers are pretty much the only ones who know how work that crap." He paused with a rare thoughtful look. "Villnore is a good place to start, they have a lot of places that could maybe make something like that." Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Then it is decided" Hrist announced "We shall head to Villnore in the morning."

Xxxx

Hrist stroked the burning embers with a stick to keep the flames going. She didn't need the heat, (her celestial body did registered hot and cold, but wasn't really affected by it) nor was she interested in the light. Hrist was merely bored.

All but one of her Einherjar was slumbering peacefully within her soul. Arngrim was on the ground using his pack as a pillow and a thin blanket, that he kept for just such a purpose, draped over him. He had his back to her and she could see his chest rise and fall slowly. The night was three quarters of the way through and dawn would come in a few hours.

Hrist never knew why he always preferred to sleep outside, but she didn't mind it one bit. Whenever he was around, even if all he was doing was just sleeping, she never felt alone.

She could just as easily be flying to Villinore, but the Einherjar within her soul always slept better when she stayed on the ground. She was willing to wait eight hours if it meant her Einherjar would be well rested. One trait that almost all immortals shared was patience. If you didn't have it, then an eternity would drive you mad. Hrist sighed and watched the small specs of light that reflected off her armors gold trimming. They looked like fireflies that she used to chase in the grassy fields of…

Hrist frowned, those weren't her memories. They belonged to a former life that was long forgotten, erased by Odin. Sometimes she would get little feelings of déjà-vu or a sudden feeling of nostalgia. Erased memories were funny like that, impossible to completely purge.

_Leone_

That was her name, and really that was all she had. Rufus promised her that he would never erase her memories like Odin did. He told her he will seal them for the purpose of not interrupting rebirth as a human. But when she returned to her duties as a Valkyrie she would be allowed to have all of them back.

She stroked the fire again. One of the logs split, causing a small glowing red cloud of embers to rise into the air. "Are you unable to sleep?" She said without looking away looking away from the fire.

Arngrim remained still; the only movement was the slow rhythmic breathing. But this only lasted for a moment before he turned around and sat up. "How did you know I was awake?"

Hrist continued to poke at the burning log, amusing herself with the shapes the embers made in the night air. "I was able to hear myself think." She answered, and then finally turned her head to look at him. Her armor glinted under the orange light of the fire. Arngrim smirked, "Are you saying I snore?" He asked with playful indignation in his voice.

Hrist suddenly found herself smirking. "Once I thought a Dragon had snuck up on me." She said, with a light tone in her voice. Arngrim laughed to himself as he rose to his feet and headed over to take a seat near the goddess. The night suddenly felt propitious as Arngrim took his seat on the same log that she sat on. She was getting ready to poke some more fun at him when a thought suddenly crossed her mind.

"Did you ever find out what was ailing Cromm and Roderick?" she said with a mild look of seriousness in her face. Arngrim crossed his arms and leaned back, his smile growing wide with amusement.

"Ya about that, from what they told me, they thought that you could read their minds" He paused for effect "and I guess they were thinking some pretty dirty thoughts about you."

In his opinion the sheer look of disbelief on the Valkyrie's face was absolutely priceless. She groaned and placed her face into hands in a frustrated gesture. But it was made benign by the humored smile that reasserted itself on her face.

"I am unsure if I should be flattered, or horrified that I have managed to find such dimwitted Einherjar." She turned back to Arngrim. "I used to be envious of Silmeria's mind reading capabilities. But if that is what she has to put up with, then she can keep it." Arngrim tilted his head back in laughter, while Hrist kept a very amused smile on her face.

They sat together for sometime in a comfortable silence, watching the fire until Hrist spoke up.

"Do you have any good stories?" Arngrim was in his own right, one of the most experienced people she has ever known. In effect he was one of the highest graduates in the School of Hard Knocks. Personal experience made him a self made man, and one of the best mercenaries in the market. Everything he has ever done be it good or bad, crazy or just plain stupid, taught him something that he took with him everywhere. And as a by-product he had some of the best stories she had has ever heard. Maybe Leone had good stories too. But that was something that she would never know.

Arngrim rubbed his chin for a moment as he went through his mental archives. "Did I ever tell you about the time someone hired me to babysit the statue of King Septum?"

Hrist pursed her lips. "Sounds boring"

He responded with a thoughtful smile, like he was reminiscing something. "Boring? Ha! I wish, nobody hires a mercenary for an easy mission, and this was no exception." Seeing that she was listening he continued. "Turns out it had some map hidden inside of it, lead to some long lost treasure room. The first night I was ambushed by a bunch of assassins who belonged to some order… or some bullshit like that."

Hrist raised her eyebrows. "What did you do?"

"What else?" he said with a shrug "I did what I was paid to do. I tracked them down and kicked their asses. It wouldn't have been so bad either, but I wasn't the only one after it. I had to try and stay one step ahead of this group of land locked pirates the whole friggen way."

"Really?" The Valkyrie paused her stroking of the fire. He could tell she was slightly impressed.

"Yup, they weren't even the worst of it. I also had to deal with this ass of a Constable who seemed bent on making my life a living hell." Arngrim said with a nod.

The Goddess crossed her legs and turned to give him her full attention. "Well I take it back then. I would love to hear this story." Arngrim smiled. "No problem, I'll start from the beginning, but I'll tell you though it was one of the craziest weeks of my life…"

The rest of the night was passed before Hrist knew it as Arngrim told his story. As the other Einherjar awoke in the morning they all left in the same way they came, in a flash of violet light.

**Here it goes. Its kind of hard to find info on things like maps and the towns, plus its been a long time since i've even played Valkyrie Profile 2, so i hope you guys done mind me taking some artistic liberties... also, if you guys are wondering, this is taking place a few years after the events of VP2. Also i'm doing this whole story on a PDA phone, in my spare time. so please don't hate me if i take a while to update :O **

**Reviews and suggestions are welcome, but please be gentle, my ego bruises easily.**

**I don't own anything, if i did VP3 Hrist would be out already.**


	2. NewGirl In Town

_Do not confuse your vested interests with ethics. Do not identify the enemies of your privilege with the enemies of humanity. -Max Lerner_

"That is preposterous! Saying such things does not make you look…" Hrist, now disguised as Leone, made a face as if tasting something bitter "…bad ass…" She turned her head, stopping in the middle of the cobblestone street. "and what the hell does such a term mean anyway?"

Arngrim couldn't help but chuckle, Hrist and her sisters were usually creatures of strict etiquette, even he had to admit, getting her to say the word 'badass' did make her look a little funny. "A badass is a guy, who doesn't take shit from anyone. Someone that everyone knows not to mess with…" Arngrim saw a single skeptical eyebrow rise on her pretty face. He thought for a second, trying to think of a way to get his point across, in a way that the Valkyrie could relate to.

"Look, that not important. What I'm telling you though, is that you gatta put a little style in what you do. Make em respect you, ya know? Let's say you bust into a room full of bad guys," The heavy warrior pantomimed busting in a door. "And you say, "I hope you're all hungry, because you're all going to be eating cold steel." Arngrim began to swing an imaginary sword, then stopped when he 'stabbed' his foe "You'd be a total badass"

Hrist rubbed her chin, deep in thought before she spoke "So must we still smite them with our swords? Or will they merely _laugh_ themselves to death, at our corny declarations?" She tried to hide the smirk on her face, but failed.

"…You're hopeless, you know that?" Arngrim said with feigned disappointment in his voice.

Hrist's smirk evolved to a full blown smile. "Besides, Valkyries don't do bad ass…" the term still flowed awkwardly out of her mouth "for we are too busy kicking said asses". Arngrim nearly tripped on his own feet.

Holy shit, did she just make a joke? No, that couldn't be right. Because that would imply that Hrist Valkyrie _might actually have a sense of humor_. And somehow the thought of a wise cracking, funny girl Hrist Valkyrie seemed about as improbable as somebody eating their own head. But just in case, he watched her for a moment…

Hrist's cheeks began to grow hot under his intense gaze. "I am unsure as to why you are staring at me, but rest assured that I can, and will, hurt you."

And just like that, all was right with the universe

The former mercenary took in the glum surroundings. This place had really gone to the pits since he was last here. Finding what they were looking for wasn't going to be an easy feat by any means. "Where do you wanna start? It looks like a lot's changed since we were last here…"

The city of Villinore is still one of the largest cities in all of Midgard, and also one of the only places that were making a massive profit from the plague. As each town fell to the spotted death, it was incidentally wiping out the competition of its many fields of business. Villinore already had monopolies on things like wagon axels, saddles, and was one of the last places to get fresh beef. The massive city was already a corrupted place. Money had acted as a cancer that divided the city into the rich and the poor. The noblemen lived in the lavish northern half, with large houses perfect cobble stone streets and easy commodities, while the poor were condemned to live in what could only be described as a shantytown. They were forced to work in backbreaking, unsafe conditions for minimal pay, while the rich reaped every penny of profit. Now the price of everything was skyrocketing under the guise of supply and demand. The smelting shops and textiles plants were pushing labor into near impossible shifts.

In a feat that seamed nearly impossible the poverty line was becoming an actual visibly tangible thing. Most of the poor had to resort to petty theft to get by with what they need. Murder and prostitution was at an all time high. It was like the entire southern half was literally decaying away. Both Arngrim and Leone could only stand of in awe of the seemingly dying city.

But even Hrist had to admit, the huge sign that hung over their city entrance _did_ look bright and friendly. And behind the weatherworn looks of the people and the battered faces of the buildings. People were still moving on with their lives. Smiling and jovial people were leading caravans throughout the various shops and children were doing nothing more than being children. Hrist was unsure of the feeling that was welling within her. Alicia had taught her, that human kind was resilient if nothing else, and there was nothing that anyone could ever do to take that away from them. Maybe the feeling that she had, was respect for these beings.

But all of that instantly melted away when one man, who reeked of booze, stopped in the middle of the street and urinated.

"That is gross…" The mighty goddess deadpanned as a couple of the guards came and arrested him, not even giving him a chance pull up his pants that now hung at his ankles.

Arngrim looked around and spotted a few moderately decent looking inns amongst the ghetto. Any one of them would make a good base of operations. Some time ago they had decided to go with the 'husband and wife shtick'. Though she loathed this disguise, they both agreed that this would be the most unassuming if they were to question jewelers, and not look like they were trying to rob them.

Hrist didn't mind the outfit, which was a pale blouse and a long lavender skirt, and she didn't even mind that her hair was pinned up in an unassuming pony tail. To Arngrim she sorta looked like she should inside of a school, teaching kids their alphabet ("alright class, A is for annihilation, B is for breaking, C is for carnage…").

What she _did_ mind was that she had to play the part of a helpless woman, dependant on her husband for protection. Hrist could single handedly lay waist to this entire city, but right now she had to smile and play ignorant while Arngrim questioned everybody.

Arngrim was so lucky that no matter the situation, he never had to change. Whenever she had to play Leone the wife, he was protective husband. Or when she was Leone the mercenary, he was her partner. Even if she disguised herself as a noble, he was merely the body guard. Hrist both hated and envied him for this. But luckily for him, she was in a good mood.

That was until the voices in her head started.

"_I'm hungry, I'm tired and I have to use the bushes!" Cromm whined, though no one but the Valkyrie could hear the voices in her soul. _

"_Cromm, why didn't you go when she asked us?" Roderick asked _

"_I didna have to go then… well not that badly anyway." Though they were in another plain of existence, you could almost hear Mylan shake his head in disapproval. _

"_Cromm for someone who drinks as much as you do, you should have seen this coming" The mage said, as though speaking to a small child. (a very large and drunken child)_

"_Shutup! You're not mah dad!" Mylan couldn't help but huff at the Vikings childish words. "Cromm, you're acting like a child!" he shot back. _

"_Ya, well yer actin like a fussy old woman!"_

"_you're an imbecile"_

"_Nah uh, you're the… stupid."_

"_I cant believe it, you're big __**and**__ dumb! I certainly haven't seen that combination before."_

"_Ooh, look at me, imma wee mage, I can use meh magics, and I fight like a girl." Cromm mocked in a sing song voice. "That's you! That's what you sound like!" _

"_Fine, is that how it's going to be? Cromm your beard looks ridiculous and you should just shave it! There, I said it." The Viking gasped. "You take that back!"_

"_Never!"_

The Valkyrie stamped her foot on the ground, forgetting that she and Arngrim were in the middle of the street. "All of you shut up!" She screamed, and pointed an angry finger, at her own stomach. "Stop bickering like children, or so help me, I'll turn myself around and…" she stopped talking as she suddenly became very aware of Arngrim, and everyone else on the street for that matter, were now staring at her as if she was a loon.

"I, uh…" Momentarily speechless, she turned to Arngrim for help, with a _do something_ look on her face. Arngrim, thinking as fast as he could, said the first thing on his mind, to the steadily gathering crowds.

"…uh, my wife gets a little funny when she's out in the sun for too long." Everyone simultaneously looked up at the grey ceiling of clouds that hung in the sunless sky. "There's no sun." a small boy pointed out. But as soon as they looked back down, the duo were gone. If they would have looked hard enough, they would have noticed a small bit of lavender cloth disappear around the corner.

A few blocks down, Arngrim peaked around the corner to make sure that nobody was following them. He turned and couldn't help but smile at the scowling Valkyrie "I do not feel it prudent, to mention _every_ small detail in our report to Valhalla… particularly this incident." She said, hoping to keep this between them.

There was a pause, and she swore that she could almost _hear _him thinking of ways to torture her about this later. She had learned a while ago that the number of Valkyrie-annoying ideas he had, was directly proportionate to the size of the smirk he had on his face. And right now it was pretty big. For a moment she almost considered 'removing' that infuriating look off of his face, but inwardly sighed instead.

She had enough problems on the 'public relations front', (a term that Arngrim coined up for people running and screaming away from her in fear) and decided that acts of violence were something that the old Hrist would do. So she decided that she would instead unleash her new and improved attack of choice: which was to tolerate Arngrims's teasing; but resent the hell out of them and drop snide remarks whenever she had the chance.

Xxxx

In the grand scheme of things, Marcus Vera tended to think of himself as an optimist. Evil-black-clad necromancers had to be, if they were going to succeed in bringing about the end of the world. Yes sir, when life gave Marcus lemons, he made evil, lemon yellow, undead monsters to reap his horrible vengeance on the fools who gave him lemons in the first place. Or so he had to remind himself as he navigated his steps around the various roots and stones that littered the _Forest of Woe_.

Marcus along with an army of mercenaries, his own disciples which trailed behind him like a slow moving metal parade, made slow progress through the thick muddy ground. It was easy enough to justify the need for a group the size of the one he had now, for all anyone knew, he was nothing more than some random nobleman scholar, and the forest was well known to be full of monsters. Everyone knew of the undead, and the lesser vampires that stalked just beyond the trees, just waiting for anybody foolish enough to wander into their territory alone. What most people didn't expect though, including Marcus, were that that there were insane Yetis _everywhere_.

That's right I said it, Yetis.

And evidently they weren't just the garden variety kind either, they were the insane ones. Though he had no idea if that meant if there were normal, civilized ones. Marcus had seen the warnings on the map he had purchased, but laughed it off as a joke. The joke was on him however, as a 10 foot tall, brown, bat-shit crazy Yeti came howling at him and his troops like some sort of avenging carpet. That crazy mofo, grabbed two unfortunate soldiers by their helmets, lifted them right of the ground and slammed them together, killing them instantly, before a volley of arrows and spears brought it down. Since they had started their journey into the Forest of Headaches, they've lost a total of 7 men, all of them killed in new and interesting ways.

Probably around the time a giant bird-lizard-thing came swooping out of the sky, and carried one of the men off like an oversized rodent, that the name 'Forest of Woe' just didn't do the place justice. This was more like the Forest of Suck.

With casualties this high, a paid army of no loyalty to any country would normally decide to quit and dub this mission FUBAR. Especially if they were to know that he was actually a man who practiced in the black arts. As far as they knew he was a miracle worker, a man who knew the location to the cure for the horrid disease. They all thought, he was leading them all to the hidden temple of the All Father, where the answers to the plague were. The ruse was perfect.

Marcus didn't actually need the men to deal with the monsters of the forest. Most of them were undead and he was a necromancer. Though the former military navigators were a big help, this place was a giant fricken maze.

What he was going to need them for was for what was probably after him. The plague was working far better than he had ever hoped for, and that in itself was a problem. He knew that the gods must have sent someone by now to take care of the problem. Under normal circumstances this meant that some random worthy warrior would be picked as their champion, and sent on a mission to come and kill Marcus and his accomplices. But he didn't think that was going to be the case this time.

He could deal with a champion, but the plague that he started was raking in deaths by the millions by now. So it stood to reason that he wasn't just going to get a champion sent after him, he was probably going to be sent an actual agent of the gods; a Valkyrie.

He knew that it was not really a question of 'if' they were going to find them, for he knew that they would. Even with the amount of painstaking research and caution he exercised, he knew that there was always a trail.

Luckily, his paid army was still at platoon strength. He highly doubted that they would stand a chance against an actual Valkyrie, but if nothing else they would provide a good distraction for him to get away.

"AAAAHHH!" everyone turned to where the sound of a scream was coming from. One of the mercs, an archer, was being devoured by a massive Venus Fly Trap.

"When I'm ruler of the world, I'm burning this mother down..." He gestured to the woods, to which everyone else nodded in agreement.

Xxxx

"Leone, I'm tired and I'm starved. You think we could find a place to crash for a while?" Hrist looked around and decided that their search could hold off for a day. Hoping to find a lead, they would have to explore the city's entire market district. They could already see several smiths but no jewelers. Feeling the Einherjar within her became restless at the mention of food, she decided finding a room would be acceptable.

"Lead the way." She commanded and soon found themselves within an inn, that Arngrim had been eyeing earlier. Hrist took an instant notice that they were both being stared at as an oddity. Not that there was anything wrong with their disguises, it's just that travelers were rare these days. Patrols were no longer sent out into the main road, due to fear of them returning to base infected. The roads no longer having anyone to maintaining order, bandits and raiders had pretty much taken control of the countryside. Traveling had become incredibly dangerous, not that it mattered to Hrist. She just flew over everything anyway.

A perky young woman behind the counter looked up from her task of laundry that she was evidently in the middle of doing, and dropped her scrub board and clothing into the bucket of soapy water. She quickly ran up to her post and tried her best to smooth out her dress and place her sandy blonde hair back under her bonnet.

"Hello you two, and welcome to the Choosy Beggar!" She bubbled with excitement, just happy to see some actual customers. "I'm Missy and we have plenty of room here." Actually she had every room available. Without any travelers taking to the roads she was quickly going under. She was forced to take in laundry from the other residents and provide 'other' services to the locals just to make the ends meet. Arngrim stepped forward and placed his hands on the counter as his Valkyrie stayed back. Arngrim was more of the people person, and she was perfectly content with letting him handle the business transactions.

He casually pulled a small purse of OTH from his belt and tossed it on the counter. It landed on the wooden surface with a heavy jingle that was music to the ears of the inn keeper. She looked at the bag hungrily. This was one of the on the job perks of being an Einherjar, Valkyries had the financial backing of Valhalla. It always felt good to toss around some claude once in a while.

"I'm gonna need a room, some food and a bath for a couple of nights." The purse disappeared behind the counter almost as quickly as it hit the wooden surface.

"Oh yes sir! I'll show you to your room right away. And I'll get started on your dinner too sir." She beamed, judging by the weight of the purse when she picked it up. The tip alone was going to be worth more than the cost of the services. "Are stewed beef and vegetables going to be ok?" she asked eagerly.

"That's good. I'm going to need a whole pot though." She blinked for a second "are you sure? That's a lot of food." Arngrim smiled and quickly pulled Leone by the waist to his side, so unprepared by the sudden move she gave a small 'eep'.

"I've always been a hefty eater, _and_ _my wife here is eating for two_." The second part he whispered, causing the Valkyrie in disguise to instantly tense. It was probably wrong that Arngrim took pleasure at making her squirm and he didn't have to look to know that she was glaring at him. But damn it, it was fun, even though he would probably pay for it later. Missy looked at the angry scowl on the young woman's face, and it was more than likely that she was going to kill him as soon as they were out of sight.

She had no doubt that they were married.

"Aww, that's so sweet! Just look at you, you're practically glowing already." If by glowing, she meant turning red with embarrassment, then yes she was indeed glowing. In fact, if she got any redder, Arngrim was pretty sure that she was going to burst into flames. "I can tell by the look, that you are a first timer."

"Er… uh, Yes, it shall be my first… child." she looked to Arngrim, and could see that he was infinitely amused at her expense. Perhaps if she concentrated enough, she could glare so hard, so powerful, that she would set stupid Arngrim and that stupid grin on fire.

"Oh, don't be so nervous, I'm sure everything will be fine. So do you have a name picked out?" she continued to gush.

"Yah honey, have you got name picked out?" Arngrim added, smiling more than any man should ever be able to.

_Onfireonfireonfire_ "… I think I shall name him Arngrim" she glared darkly at him "for I think I shall need a _replacement_" Missy clapped her hands to together and looked lovingly at the Valkyrie in disguise.

"You are so funny!" she turned to Arngrim "I can't tell how lucky you are to have found someone with a sense of humor."

"Yes, they tell me that I am a real hoot." Hrist said woodenly.

As much fun as teasing the Valkyrie was, Arngrim had to get down to business. "Hey you wouldn't happen to know of a place around here that could trade fine metals with us do you? Namely mythril?" Missy put a hand under her chin while she thought.

"Mythril huh? Let's see… I don't think you're going to find anything here." She said a little apologetically "not a whole lot of us around here could afford something like that. I'd say that if you wanted to find a mythril smith, you're going to have to head to the northern markets by the noble's district. But I think they have the area closed off though." Arngrim raised an eyebrow.

"Closed off? Was there an infection?" that could be bad, if the only lead they had was dead and in a quarantined section, then that would effectively put them back at square one.

"My heavens, no. It's just closed off to the southern end of the city. They say it's just a precaution, but really I think they just don't want us riffraff in their part of the city." She said despondently "you'd probably need to get a pass to enter, but good luck getting one of those." He nodded, and took a step back.

"All right you guys, your room is upstairs and to the left" she pointed with her hands "and don't worry, I'll knock before I come in with dinner." She said with a wink.

Hrist smiled back at her. "You have my thanks, kind hostess." Then turned Arngrim "Come dear husband, we have _much_ to discuss upstairs" she said sweetly. Arngrim swallowed hard, as that special part of his brain that controlled self preservation began to tingle. "Uh, well we could ju-" He was cut off as Hrist all but began to drag him by his hand up the stairs.

Just before they disappeared out of view, Missy was pretty sure he saw the big guy mouth 'don't leave me with her' but just shrugged it off as her imagination.

_Cute couple though._ she thought

_Xxxx _

_Slam! _

With the door shut, they were alone, and Arngrim could do absolutely nothing but stare at what was probably the face of his doom.

"Eating for two, am I?" She asked as she stalked across the room. Arngrim put up his hands in a half hearted attempt to placate the angry reaper of souls. "Uhhh… we needed an excuse for the extra supplies?" He'd be damned if he told her he'd said it because he thought it was funny. There was a light thud, as Arngrim finally ran out of room and backed into a wall. Desperately, he said the only thing he could think of that would save him. "Hrist, I think this would be a perfect time to remind you of the 'no stabbing' clause in my contract."

It's true, he actually had one.

_xx_

"_Well this kinda sucks…"_

_Admittedly, they weren't exactly the most profound words that were ever spoken in this situation, but they certainly did fit the moment. Arngrim opened his eyes and saw that he was inside of some sort of… mansion? This was easily the biggest room he had ever seen in his life. Everything looked impossibly expensive. How he got here, he had no idea. The last thing he remembered was Leone taking the Dragon Orb and… _

_No, that wasn't right. She wasn't Leone, she was that Valkyrie. Arngrim wracked his brain trying to remember her name. Herst? Thirst Valkyrie? No, that didn't sound right at all. _

_Holy shit, did she stab him? His hands immediately went to his chest, and discovered a new, and massive, scar running all the way from his collarbone to his stomach. Seeing it kind of validated the whole memory. There was no way he could have survived something like that. He knew fatal wounds when he saw them. (mostly from inflicting them himself) He turned around, and that's when he saw her armored form near a window._

_The same bitch that stabbed him. _

_They were alone, and she had her back to him. Arngrim decided that a good old fashion, passionate, ass whooping, was definitely in order. But first he needed some answers, so he scratched that. He was going to have to kick ass, and take names (because he honestly couldn't remember her name). Most of her features were obstructed by the sunlight that was coming in through the window, she had her arms crossed, and she was looking out over the grassy plains outside._

"_Hey! How the hel did I survive" he gestured to his new scar, regardless of whether or not she was actually looking at him "and who are you? Really." If she heard him, she didn't make any indication of it. the only sign that she was a real person and not a statue, was that she shifted her weight a little, leaning a more on her right leg. Arngrim realized that he was probably in serious danger. He was facing an unknown enemy, in an unknown place, with no idea of how, or why he was brought here. So he did what any man would do in a situation like this: he took the opportunity to check out her but and the glimpse of her leg that had slipped through the slits of her skirt; Yup, she was pretty smoking._

"_I'm talking to you, the least you could do is look at me!" he snarled. Then she finally turned to face him. Arngrim couldn't help but shiver. Gods those eyes freaked him out. He was used to the violet, soft eyes of Leone. Now they were golden… and hard._

"_My name is Hrist Valkyrie, goddess of fate, agent to the all father Odin." She stated coldly "And you did not survive." _

_The news hit him like a ton of bricks, mostly because he kind of knew that it was true. He actually remembered drowning in his own blood, the searing pain that confirmed the damage that her weapon did to his chest. He remembered fighting for consciousness as the darkness closed in around him. Arngrim died…_

"_Why?"_

"_I did it, because I required your soul. You now stand in Valhalla, the holy capital of Asgard." Yup, this had to be, by far, the second craziest start to a day he has ever had in his life. _

"_What the hel do you want from me?" The Valkyrie turned back to the window, what she was staring at he didn't know. "War has been declared upon Dipan. I plan to launch an assault, and I require someone to watch my back… Dipan has developed some magic's that I may not be able to combat." Arngrim couldn't help but scoff at this. _

"_Your negotiating sucks lady, you think I'm gonna help you do anything after you friggen stabbed me with a halberd?" _

"_Yes." _

_Well at least she got points for full disclosure. He looked around the room for an escape route, or maybe something he could use. He really couldn't see himself working for this woman. "Give me one good reason why I should." He demanded. _

"_Because this is bigger than your petty mortal grudges" she spat "… and Odin will kill everyone." She sounded frustrated and impatient. Arngrim made a mental note to choose his words carefully. "Dipan plans to create another world, one outside the tree of Yggdrasil… They have somehow found a way, to wield the forgotten arts that only Odin himself has any right to use." Hrist turned her head slightly, allowing Arngrim a small, sideways glimpse of her face. _

"_So? What's so bad about those guys wanting to leave?" Arngrim really didn't see the problem with what they were trying to do. If they wanted to leave, and they found their own way to go, then let them go. His statement made the Valkyrie scoff at him though._

"_You did not strike me as a naïve person. Just how far do you think they will be allowed to go? Odin would rather see the world burn, before he would allow them to do something so arrogant. And now that he has the Dragon Orb, that is exactly what he plans to do." Arngrim couldn't help but rub the temples of his forehead as he realized that he was in a 'lesser of two evils' situation. Gods he hated surprises, and plot twists. It was his personal rule, to always make sure that he always knew what was going on before he took a job. Surprises in his line of work, were a good way to get yourself killed… _

_In fact that's exactly what happened, now that he thought about it. _

_Alicia is a princes with a Valkyrie living inside of her (how that worked he didn't know), Rufus was an elf. That big guy, with the D name he couldn't remember, was actually some dead guy, and to top it all off Leone was actually a friggen Valkyrie. Oh and let's not forget the dozen or so other guys that were actually ghosts, or whatever the hell Einherjar are. Somehow, in some cosmic joke of irony, he was literally the only honest person of the group. He just wanted to get paid! And maybe score with Leone._

_The entire journey had been like one big friggen soap opera, everyone revealing some huge life altering secret!_

_The biggest secret he was hiding was that that he was actually filling his water canteen with beer. But somehow he figured that revealing that shocking confession might pale in comparison to the others. _

"… _Fine. But from here on out, you and me are gonna have a 'No Stabbing' rule." He demanded. Hrist couldn't help but smile at him. She knew that she had made the right choice, by picking this mortal._

Xx

Hrist could only give a humph, as she stormed across the room summoning her other Einherjar. The second her back was turned he silently mouthed 'ow' as he furiously rubbed the spot on his arm.

Speckles of light that appeared in the room clustered together at random spots, as Roderick, Cromm, and Mylan took a sudden corporeal existence.

"Oy! About friggen time I'm hungry and tired, and I don't think I could take another moment being cooped up in there." Cromm whined as he popped his neck and stretched. Hrist, already very angry for making her look like a fool, raised an eyebrow.

"Is it so vile within my soul Cromm?" Hrist asked with a dangerous note in her voice. Cromms eyes instantly shot open mid yawn, as he cursed the bane of his existence that was his mouth.

"I, err" The massive Viking began stammering as both Mylan and Rod dove for cover. "Uhh, I mean, Its's just that yer a wee bit small..." Hrist's expression darkened even more. Rod gaped and Mylan mouthed a silent 'wow. "Well yer big enough lass… not that yer fat or anything!" He began to sweat as The Valkyrie shot him a glare that would have killed a small animal, like a hamster or something. "I mean you're so warm inside, I'm sure that anyone would be happy to spend all day inside of you… Am I gonna die?"

Xx

Missy rummaged through her spice cabinet, deciding what would go best with the stew she was making. The little sack that the big guy threw up on the table had over 500 OTH! Hel the room only costs 20 a night. At first she thought about returning it, but she needed the money. This would keep her afloat until business picked back up, so the least she could do was make their stay as comfortable as possible. As she was wondering if she had any carrots, she jumped when she heard a muffled male scream that was quickly followed by a '_THUNK'_, causing Missy to look up.

"What in the gods… oh." she rolled her eyes and gave a small chuckle. They sure didn't spend anytime messing around up there. She kind of figured that the little black haired woman was hiding a wild side in there somewhere. She carried an armful of spices to her counter and made a mental note to put some extra beef into the soup.

"Those two are probably going to need the extra protein when they're done." she said to herself, cheeks slightly aglow.

Xx Next Morning xx

Without ever opening his eyes, Arngrim was lulled from his slumber to the feeling of a warm body next to him. A combination of exhaustion, beer, and a comfortable bed partner, had the man sleeping like a rock. One of the things about being out in the field, was that being able to sleep indoors was something of a forbidden luxury. That was one of the few things he missed about Valhalla.

One of the _**only**_ things he missed about it.

Things were a lot better since Odin bit the big one, but that didn't mean that everything up there was all peachy-keen now. There was still a lot of infighting and power plays going on, as they all tried to make the most of the vacuum that Odin left.

For a while none of that mattered to him. Arngrim was a rock star, the man who stood at Goddess, Valkyrie's side and defeated the evil sorcerer. Everybody wanted to be his friend, every Aesir woman wanted to hop in his bed. He was the envy of all of the other Einherjar.

Life was friggen awesome.

Unfortunetly though, one could only keep his head in the clouds for so long before he began to realize that nothing had really changed. Politics still ruled all, and all of Midgard still suffered. Arngrim soon learned, that spending his life as a mercenary had somehow blinded him into believing in a world of simple solutions.

Not to be mistaken, that world had served him well. A local village has a problem with crime? Stop the criminals. A town is too poor to feed its citizens? Teach them to farm, and fish. Hire someone who knows how to set up an industry of some sort, to make them self sufficient. It seemed like everything could be solved with the right answer.

Things don't work like that on a grand scale.

A massive drought renders the land barren of crops. The goddess of harvest could easily bless the lands and make food grow. However, she wants to be worshipped, wants higher status-quo in the royal halls of Valhalla. She wants to be recognized for her good deeds. If Rufus gives her what she wants, then that makes others jealous. The god of the hunt gets angry because nobody cares that he's keeping fresh game out for the mortals. In a fit of rage, he goes to war by sending people loyal to him to attack people loyal to her. People die, and in the end they starve anyway. It was simply a game that he, nor Rufus, really knew how to play. Arngrim began to feel trapped, like he was forced to watch all of the work Alicia had done be completely undone because nobody wanted to play nice. He soon found himself wishing that he could go back to Midgard.

Then Hrist came around…

"Hey" he said sleepily, bringing a hand to meet the arm, so casually draped around his neck. "This is a nice way to…" Arngrim froze when he noticed that it felt…hairy…

"If you desire, I could leave the room" a feminine voice said from across the room "I would hate to intrude on such an intimate moment"

The mercenary's eyes shot open to see the soft violet eyes of the night staring at him from across the room. Then he looked over and saw that he was being spooned by a snoring Cromm.

"UGH!" he pushed off, and landed unceremoniously on the wooden floor. The room was in a general state of disaster as bodies, beer bottles, and empty food bowls were strewn about everywhere. Roderick had passed out at the foot of the bed, and Mylan was face down, drooling on the rug. The only one who looked no worse for wear was Hrist, whom was sitting in one of the padded chairs (probably where she spent the night, due to the fact that she didn't sleep).

Arngrim began to rub at the temples of his forehead "What happened?"

"Tis not obvious? You men decided to have a little party while I was scouting the defenses last night" she said, though the earlier amusement in her voice was gone.

"Oh yea… Missy had brought up a bunch of brew to our room… and we thought that, since we made so much progress on our mission that maybe we could have a beer or two to celebrate…"

"A beer or two?"

"There may have been a third one in there somewhere." He said while nervously rubbing the back of his neck. Doing the best to ignore the 'flight' part of his fight or flight instincts.

"So I see. And what of my Viking?" she said gesturing to Arngrim's former bed-buddy. He turned and looked at him, though he was hung over, he quickly realized what he no longer looked like a walking red brillo-wool pad. Someone had shaved the man, poorly, in his sleep. Now he was down to a single lopsided mustache.

"…funny story about that…" he said, stalling for time in the hopes that some miracle would suddenly distract the Valkyrie and make her forget about this. As if Lezard or Odin would suddenly jump out from behind the dresser and reveal themselves to be alive and out to conquer the world. Unfortunetly, his dumb luck seemed to be sleeping-in as well.

"Oh? Please, do tell. I find that I could use a reason to laugh." Arngrim gulped, when she said the word 'laugh', like she really meant 'reason not to kill you'.

Xx

"_GO! GO! GO! GO! GO! GO!" Mylan and Rod cheered, as their large Scandinavian friend drank, no poured, a large one liter tankard of ail right down his throat. The impressive feat finally came to an end as he slammed the metal tankard down on the table with a 'wham', right next to 4 others, and a bunch of empty bottles._

"_time?" He slurred at Mylan. The mage who'd had been keeping track shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe it… all five of them in under a minute."_

"_Hah Hah Ha-urp" Mylan took a step back while Rod just plain out ducked for cover, waiting to see if the Viking was going to spew._

_Luckily he did not._

"_I tolld ya I coulda dun it…" He said on unsteady feet "now, *Hic* whadda I win?" Both Mylan and Rod looked at each other._

"_Another beer?" they both shrugged. The Viking was evidently pleased with the answered as he whooped. "Naw thatsh wut I'm talk-" whatever he was talking about, abruptly came to an end as he burped, swayed and fell over backwards with a loud thump. For a few seconds, the two silently watched to confirm that the large man was down for the count, then immediately sprung into action. Roderick produced a set of clippers, while Mylan pulled a small shaving kit out of a leather pouch, along with a bowl, and some various ingredients._

"_Holy gods, I didn't think he was ever going to go down!" Mylan breathed with a sigh._

"_The big guy's gatta have the liver of an ox…" Rod said as he watched Mylan begin to mix some ingredients in a bowl to make shaving cream. "You think he's going to be pissed when he gets up?"_

_The two looked at the red atrocity, attached to the Viking's chin… it almost looked like he pissed off a gypsy, and thus she cursed him to forever wear a red tumbleweed on his face._

"_nah" they said in unison._

Xx

"Those two idiots shall pay dearly…"

Arngrim waited for his own inevitable berating, but to his surprise, it never came. Instead she just sat there on her chair, deep in thought. This was not the first time that he'd seen her in this funk, Hrist looked… distracted. He wondered if something was bothering her, that maybe she was concerned about something else besides their task at hand.

She was.

Though nobody said it, she suspected that a lot of the inhabitants of Valhalla were secretly waiting for her to fail, to show them that she was nothing more than an unstable weapon that that would prove to be too much a liability. A long time ago, Hrist had decided that living a life of irony sucked; she had been unofficially labeled a traitor for following her orders to the letter. In her heart, she feared what the consequences might be if she failed her mission. She knew that Rufus was a far stretch from Odin, and would probably hesitate to execute a cockroach, should he happen to see one. However though, all Valkyries had to spend time in their crystalline state at some point in time, to regenerate their souls.

Somehow she had a feeling that no one would care too much, if he just simply decided to never awaken her again. It could almost be dubbed 'merciful' to deny her the simple pleasures of the of experiencing the world-

"Hey, you alright?" She snapped from her revere, Arngrim was staring at her curiously and lowered himself so that he was at face to face with her. Her face melted from the scowl she unconsciously had on her face and gave an automatic 'I'm fine'.

This wasn't good enough for him; he wouldn't move and continued to stare at her, like if he did it long enough, he would spontaneously develop telepathy.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently.

Ugh, this was all she needed. To have a touchy-feely heartfelt conversation, with a man she had seen, _articulately_, belch the alphabet. But still, knowing that somebody cared, even if it was just a little bit, did make things seem a little better…

And if there was anybody she could talk to, it was a friend right?

"Tis nothing to trouble yourself with… it's just that" She paused as she tried to think of the best way to explain herself. "I really want this mission to go well; I find that I severely need this victory to help clear my name." She said, as Arngrim grimaced. Unfortunetly, Arngrim was well aware of the rumors and reputation of 'The Black Valkyrie', in spite of the fact that she had taken up arms with them to help save everyone.

Somehow, their story had gotten around. Everyone one knew of the crazed mage and how he nearly destroyed their entire world, just so he could kidnap Lenneth and have his way with her. Everyone knew of Odin's plan to destroy Midgard, and how he nearly killed the savior of the nine worlds. The rise of Rufus had been accepted with open arms, and everyone celebrated what was to be the new era of peace. Arngrim was totally baffled to learn that he had achieved 'rock star' status overnight for not only having actually seen, but actually fight alongside the truest form of the goddess Valkyrie herself, and save the friggen world. It was damned weird to have random Einherjar, and even some of the Aesir, give a crap about his opinion on new changes around Valhalla. The entire story was wrapped up in a neat little package of epic action, love, and selfless sacrifice, which was told at the dinner table, _Every. Friggin. Night._

However, Hrist wasn't seen in the same limelight as the others. Hrist Valkyrie was completely villianized in this awesome tale, a black knight for being so loyal to Odin. But Arngrim knew that wasn't the case, the entire time she was disguised as Leone; she could have easily jammed a dagger into Alicia's back, and released Silmeria's soul at any time. And he knew that she couldn't bring herself to do it.

Hrist knew that Odin saw Silmeria as a rouge Valkyrie, she was one of the few beings in existence to ever defy the All-Father with any type of success. And if Dipan was successful, because of her, Hrist knew that punishment for Silmeria would be inevitable, possibly even permanent banishment into her Crystal. As crazy and complex as everything had gotten, Arngrim was able to identify Hrist's surprisingly simple plan through it all. Slow Silmeria down long enough for her to complete her mission, with the hopes that if Dipan was destroyed, Odin would be pleased enough not to take his wrath out on her younger sibling.

Somehow, seeing Hrist do something so simple as trying to keep her sister out of trouble made her seem more… human.

"Since when have you ever cared about what they think?" In the soft light, he saw her turn her head to him. The simple question seemed to upset the young woman. Valkyries were creatures of pride, and Arngrim knew that she would never willingly admit that they had gotten to her.

"Arngrim, I could not care less if they like me! Being a Valkyrie is not a popularity contest." She said heatedly "What I do care about, is that I don't get labeled as a traitor to Valhalla! I could face serious consequences…" Hrist stopped, and he could see the dread on her face as she thought of the worst possible outcome. It was a look that was so rare for her that it almost made her look alien.

She was scared.

"They could banish me Arngrim… To forever seal me away, to forever deny me the right to exist in any form, rebirth or god." He watched as she poured out her insecurities and fears to him. The fact that they had somehow brought her down so far from the fiery woman he knew, burned at the mercenary. At no point in time did her loyalties to Midgard, nor the Einherjar, ever waver. She didn't deserve this. "They could end me" she said.

"Then they can go stuff themselves" Arngrim declared casually, causing the goddess to raise an eyebrow at him.

"Arngrim, th-"

"Did you know that everyone thinks that Thor nailed you behind the courtyard, during Rufus's inauguration?" Sometimes it was hard to follow Arngrim's choice of expressions, but she got the idea and visibly blanched at the thought of her and Odin's son. It was no secret that he lusted after the Hrist and her sisters.

"Such garbage! They are fools, if they think that I would allow that lewd moron anywhere near me!"

"That's my point Hrist, that _they_" he pointed a single finger upwards to indicate he was talking about Valhalla "are morons." Hrist looked like she was about to say more, but Arngrim spoke first.

"Let me ask you something. Can Thor order you to be banished?"

"Well no…"

"What about the other Aesir? Or the Einherjar?"

"No, they cannot" she admitted.

"Then what the Hel does it matter! Hrist they're all a bunch of whiny stuck-up pansies! All they do is sit around, and piss and moan about how Rufus doesn't bend over backwards and kiss their asses."

Though slightly crude, Hrist couldn't help but smile at the thought.

"…I suppose that it matters not, what they think" Arngrim was rewarded with seeing the little thundercloud above Hrist begin to dissipate, and the proud woman he was used to begin to return.

"And what about Rufus, you care what he thinks of you? Or Freya?" She paused as she gave it some thought.

"Yes" she said.

"Good, because the kid likes you. He knows the truth about how it all went down. You think he would have given you this mission if he thought you were a traitor?" She shook her head, and Arngrim continued. "Hel, you should have seen Freya while they were prepping to wake you. I'm pretty sure that's the only time I've ever seen that evil witch smile."

Suddenly they both found themselves smiling, the angsty, and gloomy Valkyrie was gone, and in her place was the proud warrior that everyone knew not to mess with.

Then that's when Arngrim noticed a new look on her face. Just as alien, it almost looked like she was nervous about something, like she was prepping herself to take a blind leap of a cliff. He couldn't be sure… but it almost looked like she was gathering her courage for something…

"…Arngrim, may I ask you something?" The mercenary looked at her dubiously, unsure where this was going, but gave her a nod of approval. Hrist suddenly lost the ability to look him in the eye, as she stared at the ground. This was something that had been eating away at her for some time now, and she knew that if she didn't ask now, then she may not have be able to muster the courage to ever ask him.

"Is it possible that… what I mean is" Arngrim watched with marvel, as she stumbled on her words (a first for him). _Screw it!_ She told herself. She had never backed down from anything in her life. Her fighting style, her tactics, Hel her whole damned approach to life itself, was based on high-risk-high-reward system. Hrist Valkyrie didn't just cut through the bullshit; she downright slashed and burned her way through it.

"Arngrim, do you think you could ever have feelings f-"

They moment was ruined when Cromm suddenly smacked his lips, and sat up. Our Dynamic Duo, suddenly very aware of the fact that Rod and Mylan had shaved him his sleep, they braced themselves for his reaction.

The mighty Viking yawned and scratched his belly with one hand, while the other rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. After a second he noticed the two staring at him, and greeted them.

"Oy! Mornin to ya two." He said, as he rubbed his face, and then froze as he immediately noticed that something was wrong. In a panic be began to look around, and finally caught a reflection of himself on the vanity chest.

He screamed

Xxxx

"I-I dunno lads, it just doesn't seem like somethin I would do." Cromm confessed as they all walked toward the 'poor side' of the market district. They needed supplies and intended to begin their investigation. Hrist's late night scouting had revealed where the gate to the noble district was, and that's where Arngrim and she planned to go. The rest were in charge of restocking on things like potions and rations.

"Oh yes, you totally said that you needed a new look last night! You probably don't remember because you were drunk." Roderick said nervously.

"…Is that when you guys decided to shave yer heads?"

Rod's and Mylan's lips began to quiver for a second, like they wanted to cry. Then they both noticed the dark look they were receiving from the reaper of souls behind them, and the 'you know what to say' message she was wordlessly conveying. Their punishment for violating Cromm's beard in his sleep was that they too had to shave themselves.

They didn't have beards…

"Oh yeah," Mylan said sadly, as he rubbed the baby-but-smooth top of his head "I thought that monks looked so cool, that I wanted to try out their style."

There was a little bit of truth of in that statement. He sort of looked like he should be living on a mountain somewhere. Were it not for the multi-colored intricate patterns of his mage robes, people would totally be expecting him to drop down to his knees and start praising Buddha at any second.

As for Roderick… well, maybe it was his age, or maybe it was the light armor he wore, but he fell more on the 'I just joined a cult' side of the bald spectrum. It would probably be a while before he would be able to drink any juice and/or punch, without people staring at him, waiting for him to keel over and join the mother ship.

"If you lads say so" He noticed an adorable little girl off to the side, she was playing with her dolly when she looked up at the hulking Viking. He smiled at her, and to his confusion she turned pale and ran away.

"Mommy!"she screamed at the top of her lungs. Cromm was flabbergasted.

"That's like, the fifth kid to do that!" he turned to the others "is it something about the way I look?" they collectively gave a false 'no' or 'it's just your imagination'

Nobody had the heart to tell him, but the mustache that the two had left him, was just the right shape and puffiness to trigger a deep-rooted and instinctive fear in any child he saw.

I… I wish there were a better way to put this, so I'll just go out and say it. Cromm had a pedo'stach.

That's right, our favorite Viking had facial hair that was a popular look amongst the people in '_To Catch A Predator_'(medieval edition). Though he didn't know it, he was at serious risk of walking into a room, only to have the great, great, _greatgreatgreat _grandson of Chris Hanson step out of the shadows and ask him to have a seat.

"Alright men," Leone said. Gaining everyone's attention "Arngrim and I shall head to the noble district to investigate. I hereby authorize you three to make any purchases you feel are necessary for our supply cache. This includes food, medical supplies and any equipment upgrades you deem fit" Hrist adjusted the ponytail to her disguise then remembered something to add as an afterthought. "and by no means do I want you to _**buy a bunch of beer, and call it good**_" she spat irritably. Arngrim threw his arms into the air, and groaned.

"One time, I only did that _one time_!" she turned to glare at him for a long second before she turned back to Rod and Mylan. The way the sun glared off their chrome-domes caught her attention.

"You may also purchase a hat, should you desire…"

**I was actually pretty dern unhappy with this chapter, but twas a necessary evil to move the plot along. **

**However, now that i've gotten that out of the way, i really think you're gonna enjoy the next chapter as there shall be some major asskickery! as well as the first major plot twist!  
**


	3. 121 Gigawats

_Time… Time is an artificial construct, an arbitrary system, based on the idea that, events occur in a linear direction at all times. Always forward, never back. Is the concept of time correct? Is time relevant? It matters not. One way or another, I fear that our time has run out. –Sheogorath _

Hrist sat with her legs crossed on the edge of an elegant water fountain, and kept an ever vigilant eye on the guards, as they patrolled the checkpoint that led to the noble district. Arngrim sat casually with her, taking his own assessment of their opposition. To the average passerby they looked like a happy couple enjoying the sunshine.

"So what's the plan boss?"

The night prior, Hrist had done some recon of their defenses, and discovered that these guys were serious about their security. Short of tunneling, there was no way to sneak into the Noble side of the wall. Barricades had been set up at the exits that led up to Midgard itself, leaving the only way in through the city itself. Hrist could fly, but that wasn't going to help them this time. Snipers had been set up at random rooftops all over the place. Their purpose was simple, if they looked sick, kill-em. As heartless as it sounds the nobles agreed to it, since most of their servants came from the poor side of town. Even though technically they were watching the ground, them being on the rooftops made it impossible to fly in unnoticed. Hrist had hoped that, since Missy had mentioned people getting in with a pass, that they could possibly steal a pass from someone. But that wasn't the case, really it was a huge list that one of the guards had at the checkpoint. So that gave them nothing to steal.

That left only one option to get in.

"Unfortunetly, our best option is infiltrating their barricades." she said. This was not going to be easy, getting past a bouncer or gang century was one thing, but these guys were disciplined soldiers.

Arngrim nodded in agreement. "It does look like our best way in… So what's our cover story?"

_Not Husband and Wife _"I was thinking I could be Leone the Mercenary Partner…" Arngrim looked over at the checkpoint. "I dunno, most of the nobles are probably HPT (high priority targets), and I don't think that they are gonna let a couple of potential assassins in."

_Please gods, not husband and wife _"What about Leone the noble?"

Arngrim rubbed his chin "With me playing the bodyguard? That could work. You'd have to do the talking though. You think you're up for it?" Hrist deflated a little. Her looks were her best asset, a flirtatious smile or well placed wink could get her passed a lot, but she was pretty sure that it wasn't going to work with armed sentries. Words were the key here, and Arngrim was the smooth talker.

_Not Husband and Wife_ "Leone the courier?"

"You'd be on the list."

_NotHusbandandWife_ "Leone the merchant?"

"You'd be on the list, _and_ you'd have to do the talking."

Hrist's shoulders slumped and she looked like she wanted to cry. "We could do Husband and Wife…" she said with a quivering lip. Arngrim smiled and put a reassuring arm around our favorite goddess "Awww, it's not so bad… Try to look at the bright side. At least you're married to me, and not some rich asshole."

"I want a divorce…"

Xxxx

The main section of the Temple of the All Father is a vast, cathedral like structure that was lined with statues of ancient and powerful gods. Inside was made of fine white marble and lined with brilliant torches that would burn eternally. Marcus Vera stood before the center alter, next to a ten foot tall white statue that portrayed a man holding the long double sided blade of the mighty Gunguir. Marcus inspected the statue, and noted the tall pedestal it stood on. At the bottom was a large stone slab that stood out from the rest. Marcus carefully moved his hands across the grooves and knew that could be moved, this was the door to a vault.

Years of painstaking research, money, and planning was finally coming together.

He touched the door, and an unseen field quickly shimmered under his hand. He could feel the raw power that probably had to go in its construction. The door was not something that was going to be easily moved

"So the cure to the plague is in here somewhere?" Mercenary Captain Neemeth, a stout though disciplined looking man asked. Marcus nodded without looking at the grizzled man. In all reality, Neemeth really didn't give too much of a crap about the people suffering from the plague. Nobility was free, and he was here to get paid. This odd little man, known for inheriting his family's fortune was paying him to do a job. If he could cure the plague, then good for him, he and his team will be known as hero's and he'll pretty much be able to name his price till the day he retires. Part of the deal was that he got to keep anything they found that was 'non mission-critical' and breaking into temples, built by the gods always paid well. And if this job didn't turn up a lot of valuables, he was going to charge Marcus extra for Expenses. So no matter what he really couldn't lose. "Yes, I know for a fact that it's here somewhere."

Marcus eyed the huge stone door, and wondered how the hell he was going to move it. He was pretty sure that it was enchanted to recognize only certain people. So that left out conventional lock picking. It was certainly too thick to pry open.

There was no way in hel, that Marcus was going to be defeated by a damned door.

The merc captain looked at the massive door then looked to Marcus. It was obvious that the door was a problem to him. "Mr. Vera, if the door is a problem, I could open it for you."

Marcus turned to him with a disbelieving look. The man probably didn't know enough magic to heat a pot of water. How the hel did he hope to bypass one of the most elaborate enchantment' he's ever seen. "Oh? And what do you know of security enchantments?"

Neemeth saw the skeptical look on his face and smiled. Mages could be so damned arrogant sometimes. However, in spite of whatever his opinion of him was, Marcus had hired them to assist in any way they could.

"That's the thing about you mage's, you use magic for so long and you forget that sometimes, the best answer to a solution is sometimes the most conventional… Lieutenant!" he called out to his men. One of the soldiers, who was busy pilfering the various gold ornaments off of the wall, dropped what he was doing and ran over.

"Lieutenant, I believe that our employer has a problem with a locked door. Do you think you we can get through with a master key?" Marcus raised an eyebrow. _A master key? _To his bewilderment the Lieutenant, walked up to the Vault door, and rapped his knuckles on the heavy stone.

"Oh ya…" He said with a smile.

Xxone hour laterxx

Marcus stepped though the smoldering remains of the vault door and whistled in approval. The Master Key, had turned out to be a high explosive directional charge. Crude, loud and kinda messy, it didn't quite have the subtlety that Marcus preferred but he couldn't argue with the results.

Plus, blowin shit up is always fun to watch.

The mercenaries, Marcus, and his own disciples entered the massive vault and, for their own individual reasons, everyone's jaw dropped.

For the Mercs, the reason was simple; gold. Treasure, ancient and enchanted weapons lined the wall, sat on pedestals and were placed on statues of the fallen heroes that once owned them. Everything ranged from being literally worth its weight in gold, to just being outright priceless. Needless to say, the Mercenaries were happy.

As for Marcus…

The rearmost part of the mammoth structure was barrel shaped, a half cylinder with a stairway leading half way to the ceiling. Three sections were carved out, no larger than a window they all housed intricately carved pestles. Marcus and his own second in command, a dark man named Loric, boldly and slowly ventured up to the top of the platform. Each display window housed its own and uniquely glowing treasure. All three of them suspended mid air.

_The Dragon Orb. _Said to have the essence of all dragons, good or evil, its history is long and painted in blood. Wars between nations, between gods, have long been fought to obtain the near infinite power that was barely contained within.

_The Heart of Brahms. _No one really knows the origins', nor what happened to the Lord of The Dead. Stories ranged from Odin finally finding a way to kill a being that was already dead, to him finding love in one of the three battle maidens, who then freed his soul. Only a handful of beings really knew the truth. Either way, though he is gone, his power remained in the form of a black jewel. Though there was a rich maroon glow, the gem seemed to drink the light around it. Whoever possessed it, would become the new Lord of the Dead.

_The Philosophers Stone. _A small stone, able to fit into the palm of a hand, was the great equalizer between men and gods. Contained in an item so small, was the infinite knowledge of the universe. Everything that has ever been known, spells, alchemy, and magic, that not even the gods knew, was contained within a small red prison. In the right hands, knowledge was power, and the Philosophers Stone was the mightiest weapon of all.

With childlike wonder, Marcus and Loric stepped forward, and were immediately stopped when a clear, shimmering wall appeared. They both groaned, unlike the simple security enchantments that held the door in place, these were strait up Barriers. Far too strong for something crude like Merc's blasting powder, these were going to have to be dispelled the hard way.

"damn it…"

"I know…"

Behind them, footsteps jogging up the stairs caused them to turn around. Neemeth, looking half crazed with greed, stopped just short of the two necromancers "So what exactly is plague related here…" he said gesturing around the room-o-treasures. Marcus and Loric smiled, more than half of this crap was cursed.

He saw one random soldier; he was test swinging a sword that was polished to such a mirror shine, that it actually seemed to glow in the darkness. What that jackass didn't know, was that he was wielding the 'Shadow Slayer' and just by holding it, he made himself the new champion of the light. By the end of the day, he was going to notice that random shadows, cast by anything, were going to have a set of eyes watching him. End of the week, those shadows will start randomly attacking. After that, if he ever walks into an unlit room or ever gets caught not next to a source of light, he will be skinned alive.

One of the few female soldiers was trying on the Charmer's necklace. Over the course of the next few months, she was going to slowly morph into a smoking hot bombshell, which no man will be able to resist. …Oh ya, and her soul will swallowed by a succubus.

Ring of the Giver: three wishes, three guaranteed backfires.

Amulet of Madness: self explanatory.

And whatever wasn't cursed, was marked sacred by the gods. Sooner or later, they were going to comeback for it, and whoever has it at the time was screwed.

"I merely require these three objects here. And as for the rest of the stuff…" he gestured around to all of the shiny objects "it's all yours if you're willing to carry it." The men didn't need to be told twice, as they all moved to various parts of the vault, pocketing valuable jewels and trinkets. Some of them were working the valuable weapons off of the mounts on the walls.

After a few moments both Marcus, and Loric, grimaced when they saw Neemeth work a ring off a nude statue that had no gender parts, male or female.

"oooohh…"

"Should we tell him…?"

"Nah, he'll figure it out when he uses the bathroom."

xxxx

"Not gonna happen guys." The sentry guards stubbornly held their ground, unyielding to Arngrim and his usually persuasive arguments. "We're under orders to halt anyone without a royal pass from entering the noble district."

Even Hrist couldn't believe the audacity of these people. They stood before the only gate to the upper district of Villinore, which had over a dozen guards posted to keep anyone from the slums from entering. When asked they told them that this was nothing more than an extra precaution against the plague, though they both knew that the nobles just didn't want any of the lower class, whom they viewed as nothing more than garbage, littering their streets. She wondered if it helped them sleep at night if they didn't have to see the victims of their profiteering rackets.

"Look, we aren't here to cause any trouble, we just need to speak to someone who knows how to smith mythril." Hrist marveled at Arngrim's persistence, somehow he managed to keep a cool and friendly composure, even though he had been arguing with this frustrating guard for almost an hour. Had it been her, she was pretty sure that she would have '_made'_ a gate by now, and gods help anyone in her way.

The Valkyrie in disguise sighed, and tried her best to look 'feminine and helpless', hating that that was pretty much the extent of her role while she let Arngrim try to talk their way into this godforsaken gate.

Maybe if she was lucky, they would try to attack him, and give her a justifiable reason to turn this annoying checkpoint into a smoking crater. She broke herself from her revere and saw that the guard was still being an insufferable asshat. (She didn't actually know what an asshat was, but once she heard Arngrim referred to Odin as one, so she felt that she was using it in the correct context)

"I told you buddy, since you're not one of the nobles, you have to submit a request form, and if the royal chancellor approves, you will be granted a pass." The guard spoke slowly as if Arngrim was mentally challenged. That annoyed Hrist more than anything else. How dare these insolent mortals talk down to her Einherjar; that was her job! Once again she prayed that he would do something that would warrant swift and violent action.

_Go to your happy place._ Hrist always marveled at Arngrim's ability to always be cool and calm. So she gathered her nerve one day and asked how he did it.

"_Easy, when something's pissing me off, I just take a deep breath, close my eyes and go to my happy place"_

The Chooser of the Slain closed her eyes and took a deep and relaxing breath.

Hrist fantasized what the guard's faces would be like if she were to reveal herself as a Goddess of Fate. She imagined that most of them would do the usual, dropped jaws, shaky knees and the occasional trouser wetter. Once she had seen a man drop dead on the spot, his heart stopping in fear as her wings spread to their full span (she proudly counted that as her quickest kill, though Arngrim contests the validity of it).

She imagined summoning a shimmering Valkyrie spear, the wonderful rumble of pure power as it streaked to its target, maybe a guard tower, before it exploded and sent debris everywhere. Several of the guard would be killed outright from the blast, while others would be hit with shrapnel and various objects moving at a lethal velocity.

"Hey" Her thoughts of mass destructions, fire and screams of terror were interrupted by Arngrim's voice.

"I need 200 OTH" he whispered. She quickly, though discretely, accessed the invisible mass storage system, known only as the 'INVENTORY' and pulled out the necessary funds. "Bribe?" she asked

"Day pass" he corrected, using his fingers as Air Quotes. Just as he was about to turn back, he did a double take.

"You look happy."

"I was in my happy place" she said.

"Good girl" Arngrim gave her an approving smile, and patted her shoulder.

Xxxx

The difference between the north and southern districts was like night and day. The noble's side of the city was completely clean, not a single piece of trash littered their streets, beautiful and colorful plants lined their sidewalks and gave the whole place a floral scent.

It made Hrist sick. She watched all of these men walk around with an undeserved sense of self importance, and wondered if anybody's ever worked a day in their lives. No matter how much good anybody does, crap like this will go on.

It was all a little depressing.

Arngrim looked around, and brought a hand to his chin as he thought of the best way to search the city. This wasn't going to be easy, Villnore's upper city market was a big place, and trying to find one shop out of hundreds was a needle haystack scenario. His mind quickly reverted back to his mercenary days; particularly his jobs spent acting as bounty hunter. This wasn't the first time he's had to track someone who didn't want to be found…

"Arngrim"

He turned and began to scope out the guards and most of the people who were seemingly minding their own business. An easy option would be to ask around, but that might draw attention. Putting out feelers for info worked both ways unfortunately, and he didn't wanna tip off the target that he was being hunted. Plus, if this guy set up something as big as the plague, then he probably had money. There'd be no way to tell if he, or she, had the locals in his pocket.

"Arngrim…"

Completely lost in his own thoughts, he spoke more to hear himself think than for the benefit of others "I think we might have to do a sweep of the district, it shouldn't take that long. Most of the time, jewelers are usually set up near the center…" he explained. Hrist cleared her throat in an attempt to gain his attention, but once again, her actions were fruitless as he wasn't paying attention. "We have to consider the possibility that he might be using a third party. But we don't have to worry about that too much, I still know some people in the black-"

"ARNGRIM!" Leone barked, effectively derailing his train of thought. He looked down to the severely annoyed woman with a "huh?'

"While that is a well thought out plan, and I am glad that you are willing to put so much effort into our mission, I feel that our best plan of action would be to look _there_." She pointed to a spot behind her large partner. He turned around and saw a small building with two large windows. Hanging above them was a large sign that said 'Jays Jewelry'. Below that were several smaller signs that said things like 'expert mithril smiths' and 'we make tools for alchemists!'

Arngrim's jaw dropped "you have got to be kidding me…" he looked lower still and could see other containers, all of them identical to the one found in Bellane. He looked back and saw a very smug looking Hrist smirk at him. He slumped his shoulders and let his arms hang in defeat. "fine… I guess we _could_ start there." He sighed in defeat, disappointed that he wasn't going to get to do any cool detective work.

xx

There was a cheery jingle as they opened the door, Hrist looked up and saw that the source was a tiny bell which was there for that very purpose. The interior was pretty much what she expected it to be for a jewelry shop, it was clean and there were display cases everywhere that held lots of shiny rings, broaches and earrings. There was a thin, clean cut man, standing behind the counter. She looked his slightly balding head and guessed that he was probably in his forties.

"Good afternoon, and welcome to Jay's" the man drawled his eyes flew to their hands, no rings and noticed that they stood in close proximity to each other, a sign of familiarity. He looked to Arngrim, "Let me guess; you here to buy a ring for the young miss there?"

Arngrim stepped forward, and pulled out the Exigency Container they found, while Hrist casually watched the door.

"No thanks, but we found this, and were hoping you could tell us who this belongs to, it looks pretty expensive and the owner probably wants it back." Arngrim said smoothly, in spite of the sarcastic grin he was getting from the proprietor.

"Oh, is that so now? And you just happen to be a Good Samaritan who's hopin to do the right thing?" The owner, presumably Jay, didn't look like he was buying it. Arngrim instantly changed tactics, this guy was smart and this wasn't going as smoothly as he wanted, but he could roll with this. "Well, of course there's going to be a finder's fee… a fee that you could get a small cut of, if you help us out here." He smiled darkly. This was a role he could fit easily into; if people wanted to believe that everybody had an ulterior motive, then that's exactly what he'll give them. Besides it was always easier to believe that somebody was extorting somebody else than someone trying to do the right thing.

"ya… that's not gonna happen for two reasons chap. One: I have a long list of respected clients, all of which would not be pleased if I broke my confidentiality clause with them. Two: you two are not nice people, my guess is… bounty hunters?" he looked at Hrist, who was still positioned near the door. "Probably assassins"

Arngrim could only blink, amazed that their cover was blown to hell in a matter of seconds. Part of him had to know why. The shop keeper smiled, then leaned back and crossed his arms. Almost as if he was reading his mind he answered him by gesturing towards the Valkyrie.

"She has the dead eyes of a killer." He said, not at all concerned that those very eyes were now looking directly at him. "I'll tell you what gents' why don't you give me all of the OTH you two have on you and leave right now, and maybe I won't call for the guards." Arngrim honestly didn't know what was worse, the fact that his cover was blown, or that he was being extorted by completely condescending snob.

There was a small and feminine 'hmph' and all eyes went to the small and unassuming Leone, whom was still standing in the corner. The keeper was suddenly very uneasy. He expected them to try and intimidate him with scariest look they could muster. But she didn't do that, her face went impassive, in fact it was more than impassive it, was it was downright _serene_. She blinked and incredibly, her once violet eyes were now golden. Arngrim backed away from the jeweler, as he recognized the golden eyes as her primary sign that she was powering up.

Hello misplaced aggression, long time no see.

The small woman began to calmly cross the room; the pad of her soft shoes grew harder with each step till it became a distinctive 'ka-chink'. Without breaking stride, her hair fanned out behind her without being touched, and the lightly colored clothing melted giving way to jet black armor.

In the time it took to cross the room, she morphed from Leone to Hrist Valkyrie.

"Holy Gods…" he breathed and tried to run. She exploded into movement, far too fast for any normal human being, she was on him. She grabbed him by the front of his shirt, led him back away from the exit and slammed him to the wall so hard that all of the display cases shook and pinned him in place. He couldn't reach the ground as she let his feet dangle a few inches off of the ground.

"You are indeed correct." She said. So taken, and frightened of the young woman's lethal calm that he didn't even struggle. The jeweler felt something sharp press up against his crotch, looking down; his eyes bulged as he saw that she was holding a full sized halberd up to his (pardon the pun) family jewels.

"Now I would suggest that you listen well, for I shall not repeat myself. You shall tell us everything we wish to know…" He yelped as she applied more pressure to the blade, not enough to cut him, but just enough to know that she meant business. "Or we shall see if you have the balls to face me," she smiled cruelly "get it? That is a joke… why aren't you laughing?"

"I sold that to a man named Marcus Vera!" he cried

"Who is that?" he swallowed, but didn't waste any time responding to her.

"Y-you can't do this! The guards will-" She slammed him against the wall again. He couldn't help but notice the way the feathers on her helmet wobbled with each movement she made. And still, her composure was as cold as ice.

"The guard will never make it in time. Now answer my questions. Or rather, if you would prefer to squat for the rest of your life…" there was the light sound of fabric being torn, as the blade of her halberd began to slowly slice through…

"I don't know! He comes in once in a while and commissions me for alchemist tools; th-there's billing receipts in the drawers over there, it has his address on it- That's all I know I swear!" He could see her eyes flash with contempt; it wasn't hard to see that she was quickly running out of patience.

"oh gods, please. That's all I know!" he wailed. She dropped him and stepped away. Her armor burned away, and was quickly replaced with the same clothing that she had before. She looked to her partner, who was pretending like he didn't just almost see a guy get castrated. "We should take our leave, and investigate the resident" she said, while putting her hair back into a pony tail. The keeper flinched as she brought her scrutinizing gaze on him again. "I trust that you will be wise enough to forget what you saw today… if not, then I shall return."

Once they were back outside, Hrist couldn't help but take a deep and appreciative breath. "I must admit that felt goo-" she noticed the odd look she was getting from Arngrim. "What?"

"Hrist, I've meet a lot of people in my time, but you're _by far_, the god damned scariest woman I've ever met." He said, and waited nervously for Hrist to explode. To his absolute surprise, the Valkyrie blushed and gave him a small peck on the cheek.

"I am unsure of what you are trying to gain with your flattery… but you are sweet for saying it." She almost giggled, causing the mercenary to give a nervous laugh of his own.

"Ha ha… yea… flattery"

Xxxx

Our usual partners in crime strolled up what had to be _the_ biggest mansion that they've ever seen. This big monster was an obvious testament of the owners' status and wealth. The gated courtyard was tastefully decorated and immaculately maintained. All of it was surrounded by a 10 foot wall that led to a single gated entrance.

"Holy shit…"

"Indeed…" they said, as they stared through the bars of the gate. "It looks… unoccupied, are you sure that this is the correct address?"

"Positive, this is where all of jays work gets shipped to." It made sense. After all, if this guy could afford to have alchemist tools and containers made of mythril, then he could probably afford a snazzy pad like this.

"The answers we seek could be anywhere in that place… We should have brought the others." Hrist turned to her partner "Do you think it is possible to go back and get them?" Arngrim shook his head.

"We barely made it through the first time; I don't really think that we'll have that kind of luck again."

"Damn… I suppose we shall have to do this alone-"

"Do what alone?"

Hrist and Arngrim nearly jumped out of their skin when a voice spoke from behind directly behind them."Gah! Wha… Cromm?" The goddess looked and sure enough it was her Viking, and next to him were his other two accomplices, oddly they were wearing Villnore guard uniforms and armor. All three of them were sipping at a mug, filled with some sort of frothy dairy product. Using care so he didn't spill his drink, the huge man put his hands up apologetically. "Aye, sorry bout that lass, didn't mean to sneak up on ya. We got bored of waitin here so we went out fer smoothies! And look, we even brought you guys one, just case you were here when we got back."

Sure enough, they each had a mug thrust at them, which they accepted numbly.

"Wait, so how did you guys get past the Guard Post?" Arngrim asked incredulously. It took them an hour to get past that Checkpoint, they must have found a side entrance or something. But that couldn't be right, Hrist scouted the area, and there's no way she'd miss something like that.

"The checkpoint?" Mylan spoke up "Well we just lied our way though, it only took us a minute."

"I demand to hear the details!" Hrist boomed. The three looked at each other with curious looks, they weren't really sure what their deal was, but they figured that they better oblige.

"Uh… okay," Rod spoke "well Cromm had this really awesome idea on how to get us passed the gate" The Viking shook his head enthusiastically "Ya, I remember that mah little buddy here, used to be part of the patrol guard in his home town! So I figured that he knew how to speak 'guard talk'."

Xx

_The Villnore guards are bored and hot, the sun's been brutal all afternoon, and none of them are really all that happy to be there. Suddenly they spot something that catches their interest. Cromm is being directed toward the gate, his hands are in shackles. Behind him are Roderick and Mylan, they follow closely behind him each are wearing the same armor, helmets and uniforms as the rest of the VIllnore guards._

"_Lemme Go! I didn't do nuthin!" The massive Viking struggles and hams it up for the benefit guards. "you'll never pin it on meh!" A couple of the real guards stepped up and halted them._

"_Hold it, what's going on here?" He asks._

"_Made an arrest in the eastern neighborhood district, and I'm taking his ass to central booking." Mylan kept quiet while Rod answered with the crisp and __authoritative __tone that only his years of being a patrol guard could develop._

"_What are you charging him with?"_

"_I'm charging him with a 10-95…" Rod said and turned his head to Cromm "and if he doesn't shut the hel up, I'm gonna slap him with a Resisting Arrest too!" he yelled at his 'prisoner'. Cromm shrunk a little "yes sir" he said in a tiny voice. The guard looked confused_

"_10-95… Loitering?" _

"_Yup" Rod said grimly "right outside the schoolhouse…" The real guard took one look at Cromm's puffy mustache and shook his head with disgust "You make me sick… Alright you guys get him to the station and process this pervert." The trio, almost made it passed, when one of the other guards stopped them._

"_Wait a minute… why haven't I seen you guys before?" _

_Roderick stopped, then let out a big sigh, he began to remove his helmet. Mylan, not wanting to draw attention to himself mimicked Rods actions. _

"_We're new…" his expression and his voice deadpan as he and Mylan lifted their helmets and pointed at their shiny bald heads. The entire Checkpoint burst out in laughter. After a full 20 seconds, the guard wiped a tear from his eye._

"_Don't worry rookie, you'll be the one's hazing the new guys before you know it" he said with a smile._

Xx

Arngrim, groused "Well I could have done that if I had some… Where did you guys get guard uniforms?" Mylan cleared his throat "That was actually me…"

Xx

_Two Villnore guards walk around the corner of a building. On their routine patrol, they make small talk and pass by an ally. They both stop when they hear a scuffle then a voice "give me all your money, and I won't have to kill you."_

_The two guards look at each other, having just pretty much heard a mugging in a progress, they both dash into the ally, swords in hand. _

_Inside, Mylan has Roderick up against the wall and is holding a knife up to his throat. _

"_Drop it, NOW!" one of the guards yell. Mylan gasps "You guys got me!" he says, then immediately complies my dropping his knife, it lands with a clatter._

"_Alright, keep your hands where I can see them! You're under arrest for mugg-" The second they're in arms reach, Mylan strikes by grabbing each of their arms. Suddenly their bodies go ridged, and start to convulse, as several thousand volts of electricity, from the Mages lightning spell, course through their bodies. After a few seconds they fall to the ground, unconscious. _

Xx

"I… Wh… How did you men find this resident…" Hrist said, still reeling by the fact that Arngrim and she had been beaten to the punch in almost every way "Do you even know whom we're after?"

"Yeah, guy named Marcus Vera right?" The archer said, as the Valkyrie and her mercenary stared. Seeing the obvious question on their faces, he decided to continue.

"Well, since I was already in the one of the Villnore guard uniforms, I decided to head to the station and check out the DVS list for any suspicious acti-"

"DVS?"

"oh! It stands for Department of Villnore Security…" He saw the blank expression on the Valkyrie's face "Well a couple of years back there was this whole incident involving a guy named Lezard Valeth-"

"That is all a bunch of crap! It was all an obvious inside job, so the kingdoms could have more funding for mage and alchemist tracking!" Mylan spat. Cromm looked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing "Are ya daft man? How can you be one of them conspiracy nuts, when there was so much evidence!"

"…anyway" Rod continued, while ignoring the Viking and Mage heatedly argue. "since then, the Alchemist's Act was instated, which allows shipments of dangerous ingredients to be tracked, and anyone who buys them to be flagged. And on a hunch I checked the list to see if anything recent happened. Sure enough I found a whole bunch of hits on a guy named Marcus Vera!" He pointed proudly to the house behind him.

"…I'm telling you, the Alchemist's act, was just a start! Pretty soon, they're going to be counting how many times-"

"Well I think that we should just trust the kingdom and do wh-"

"Silence! Both of you!" everyone shut up "We are too close to risk anything with this mission. And your petty bickering might draw the attention of any guards patrolling the area!"

Roderick cleared his throat…

"What…" Arngrim deadpanned. Completely oblivious to their expressions, he answered "While we were at the station, we also found the patrol schedule, so we made a few… adjustments."

"We _are_ the patrol for this area" Mylan said as he pointed to Rod and himself.

"You men have done well, now… go find a way into that house for me…" The Valkyrie said. And with enthusiasm that was almost damned annoying, the three nodded and took off for the mansion. At some point someone declared it a race and they started sprinting.

"Are we getting slow?" she asked her partner as she watched Cromm trip over a rock and topple over on the lawn.

"_who put this rock here!"_

"Us? Nah… we just do it with style… you can't rush style." The two nodded as they totally bought their own BS

"_Hey! You lads aren't going to believe what's under this rock!" _Cromm held up a key that was more than likely a spare to the front door.

"Oh come on!" Arngrim cried.

Xxxx

Unlike the immaculately cared for lawn, the inside is a different story. The inside was dirty, and unkempt. It looked as if no one has attended to it for well over a year. Everyone held their nose at the strong stench of death.

"… I don't like this." Arngrim said, giving voice to all of their thoughts. "This smells like the ghost towns." Everyone drew their weapons, and began to sweep the area. Stairways, corners and balconies, presented a huge tactical disadvantage. Anything could be waiting around any corner or behind a door, and they could be easily ambushed from over the railing of the second floor. Hrist, Arngrim and Cromm formed a defensive formation around Roderick and Mylan, as the two scanned the upper walkways and balconies, ready to launch spells and arrows at anything that pops its head into view.

But like the towns they frequented lately, there was no signs of life, no sounds.

_Silence_

Keeping quiet, they moved from room to room. However every room they cleared led to more rooms, and those to even more, the mansion was just simply too huge.

"This place is almost as bad as Valhalla" Arngrim said "We're gonna be here all day."

"Indeed. Everyone, hold position" the goddess said. Everyone did as ordered has Hrist lowered her weapon. Rod, Mylan and Cromm watched with curiosity as she stepped a few feet away from them and lifted her head slightly, were she outside people might say she was enjoying a breeze.

"What's she doin?" Rod whispered to the others.

"She's trying to see if she can sense anything" Arngrim said, and everyone nodded. They waited patiently as their Valkyrie spiritually searched for anything, good or evil, finally after what seemed like forever, she spoke.

"This house is an unholy place, I can sense the darkness everywhere. However, I can also sense that something is alive here, something… large."

"Anyway to tell what it is?" The mercenary asked, and the Valkyrie shook her head "No, only that its soul is far too large to be human, and that whatever it is, it's directly below us."

"Awesome, because nothing bad has ever been found in a basement before, hel I'm willing to bet there's a petting zoo down there." Mylan quipped sarcastically. However his tone flew right over the Viking's head as his eyes lit up "Really lad?"

"You mean you're asking me if there's a petting zoo in an evil mans house, which by the way smells like there's a bunch rotting corpses we have yet to find?" There was a long pause.

"Well all zoo's smell a little."

"…Yes Cromm, there is a petting zoo there… and there's probably cake too."

"To the basement!" everyone shook their heads.

Xx

"I'm starting to think that the cake was a lie…" Cromm said.

Walking into the bottom most floors in Marcus Vera's mansion was like stepping into the psyche of a madman. The smell of formaldehyde and rotting meat was almost overpowering as they all had to cover their noses. The massive room housed equipment for Alchemy, all of it ranging from small beakers, to massive boilers for distilling ingredients. Scores of crates, some of them of them open, held various containers of multi colored liquids and powders, which Hrist guessed were ingredients for alchemy.

Off to the side were large shelves of books, and various scrolls. All of it leading to a set of tables and a large board that were completely covered in notes, papers, charts and even maps. All of it marked with various dates and times indicating his progress to whatever he was doing.

This was a lab

"Does anyone else hear that?" Everyone turned to Roderick, who pointed to a large section of a corner that was curtained off.

"It sounds like something's breathing…" Arngrim said as he pulled his sword out. Hrist took point while everyone moved to their positions. By the time the Valkyrie reached for the heavy cloth of the curtain, they were all ready to attack. Giving a silent countdown she pulled the curtain, and everyone jumped, their reactions varying from 'holy crap' to 'is that real?'

Shackled to the ground by heavy chains, was an actual Dragon.

The mighty beast probably weighed somewhere in the ballpark of ten to twelve tons. Though it was curled up against the corner, it could probably be as long as a house and maybe as tall if it raised its head.

Bound to the floor, the beast had extremely limited mobility, so it really couldn't much more than growl from where it lay. Deeming it non-threatening, they all lowered their weapons, and approached the downed reptile. Valkyries came with… we'll call it a package of info. She knew basic information on all monster and demons that exist on Midgard, nothing too fancy, just enough to be able to defeat them. She could tell it was young just by its lack of a horned fringe. And the color of its scales, which were a murky green, told her that it was male.

A quick glance showed that the animal was in poor condition. One of its eyes was missing, along with several of its talons, and sections of its scales had been removed. Mylan made a grim observation.

"He's harvesting it for ingredients…"

Kind of like cats and dogs, Valkyries and Dragons were natural enemies. Often times the battle maidens were dispatched to destroy such beasts that were turning towns into hunting grounds. However though, to see this pathetic sight…

'_No, not pathetic' _she thought as she stared into its one good eye. She expected to see a lot of things, maybe rage, fear, or maybe she even expected to see it plead for its life, but that's not what she saw.

Hrist respected a lot of things in her enemies, she respected strength, honor, courage, but when facing one's own death, there was one thing that she would never disgrace when having end something's life. And that was _defiance,_ the unwillingness to surrender its dignity, even when it didn't matter anymore.

"Hrist?" he heard her partner behind her. Arngrim wanted to ask if she was okay, but that would make her seem weak in front of her Einherjar, an offence that Hrist would be slow to forgive. So all he could do was wait along with the others, for her order to put this thing out of its misery.

"Everyone spread out, and find what you can. Mylan, I want you to see if you can make sense of those papers" she said without turning to any of them. Roderick looked unsure.

"But lady Valkyrie, what about the dra-" Rod instantly shut up when the dark maiden whirled around to him.

"_I_ _will not tolerate your insolence_!" she said in a voice that caused even Arngrim to take a step back. "Now go do as I commanded..." Everyone took off, but Arngrim stayed.

"Were my orders unclear?" She asked, her voice as cold as ice.

"What's going on with you? You know we can't let this thing live."

"Just go… please." She said as she turned from him. Arngrim didn't like it, but he knew that he wouldn't get anywhere with her at the moment. Whatever issue she had, she was obviously wasn't ready to talk about it.

Xx

They found quite a few things' while waiting for Mylan to finish sifting the pile. For one, they found the waiting staff, Rod had opened a door to find a bunch of plague riddled corpses that bed been experimented on. Evidently Marcus had 'enlisted' their help their help to develop the plague.

Arngrim discovered that he wanted to become an alchemist, when he found an old microbrewery. He asked about it, and Mylan explained that alchemy was expensive. Labs had to be furnish, ingredients needed to be procured, studies had to be funded. And since brewing beer was really just another form of alchemy, the easiest way make money was to make their own brew, and sell to local pubs and taverns. When he asked Mylan if he could make beer, the mage merely smirked "_The Arcane University runs at about 30,000 OTH per semester, and is filled with a bunch of beer bonging fratboys. What do you think?_" And Arngrim instantly liked this guy.

And Cromm? Well, at one point in time, he cautiously approached the archer and whispered in his ear. Roderick shook his head and whispered back, this caused the Viking to stand a pump an angry fist in the air "The cake was a lie!" Rod nodded.

Hrist approached the mage as he laid papers and maps into individual piles "What have you to report?"

"Well this guy is nuts, but I gatta admit, he does good work." He said, and reached for a stack of notes, mindful to try and keep everything simple and in layman's terms for non-mage's. "He dabbles in a lot of things, everything ranging from standard Medical Science, Necromancy, Alchemy, Hel I even see some notes for Chronomancy…"

"What, you mean like time travel?" both Hrist and Mylan's head turned to Arngrim, as he and the other approached the work station "Not like you're thinking. Chronomancers can only manipulate time flow, barely. They can maybe slow it down a little or speed it up, but traveling years in any direction just isn't possible…" he stopped and rubbed his chin "Well… there were a few radical theories from the Lost City of Dipan but that place was destroyed by some sort of disaster.

Arngrim, and said 'Disaster' shared a look.

"But I digress, as for the plague from what I can tell; he made some kind of bio/magic infusion of some ordinary disease. Kind of like how one would enchant a weapon."

"Can it be undone?"

"By me? No, I'm an elemental Mage; I deal with lightning, ice, and fire. However, given how thorough these notes are, it can totally be undone by the right guy, maybe in a matter of weeks." Mylan said with a smile. Everyone loved to give good news.

"This… this is excellent. Is there anything else of importance?" Hrist was just barely able to contain the cry of joy that bubbled up within her. This was it, mission accomplished! Hrist would be able to report back to Valhalla with nothing but good news. No innocent casualties! No collateral damage! Finding and purifying Marcus would be the final objective to her mission. However, she wasn't worried about that, like so many before him, he was about to find out that nobody escapes Hrist Valkyrie. _Nobody._

There was nothing that could bring her down from her joyous mood.

"…There is one other thing, though I'm not sure it's worth mentioning." Mylan pulled another stack, this one a mixture of maps, notes and even a few books. "I think he's one of those weirdo's who spend their life looking for the Philosophers Stone." Arngrim froze and all of the color drained out of his face. This didn't go unnoticed by either Hrist, or Mylan.

"Arngrim? You look like you know something. Perhaps you would like to share?" she asked suspiciously. The large mercenary gulped, and then very cautiously he turned to Mylan.

"There wouldn't happen to be anything about the Forest of Woe, would there?" Mylan dubiously pulled out a map out of the stack an unfolded it "…yeah there is actually, I saw a lot of references about a vault hidden in a temple… right here." He pointed to a red circle on the map. Arngrim looked at it and closed his eyes. They both saw a single bead of sweat run down the side of his face.

RIP Hrist's joyous mood. It's too bad; a lot of people would have said that it never really had a chance.

"_Arngrim…_" She dragged his name out dangerously. Mylan looked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing "Hold on here… are you telling me that the Philosophers Stone, _**The**__ Philosophers Stone_, is real?" Hrist spoke up to answer him, though not without taking her eyes off of Arngrim.

"Oh yes, that cursed stone does indeed exist, and it nearly destroyed us all!" The Dark Reaper of Souls, calmed herself "happy place, happy place…" she took a deep breath then spoke, in a much calmer voice "Okay, now enlighten me as to why the stone was not destroyed."

"We tried, that stupid thing was indestructible so we had to hide it. Valhalla seemed like a bad idea, I mean, can you imagine if one of the Aesir like Loki or Thor got a hold of it?" He had a point, and maybe this wasn't as bad as she might have thought this seemed.

"Okay, this may not be as bad I fear, tis obvious that he know of its whereabouts. However, the stone cannot act alone, he would need a strong power source to act as a catalyst, and I know for a fact that both Lenneth's and Silmaria's souls are safe at Valhalla."

"…he might also have Brahm's power…"

"…He might have the power of THE LORD OF THE DEAD!"

"I don't know the details, but when his soul was freed his power remained… or some shit like that. So me and Rufus decided that we should hide that and the stone to make sure that nobody would find em."

Hrist couldn't believe what she was hearing, All-Father or no; she was going to ream that idiot when she got back to Valhalla. "I cannot believe this! Why not just give him the Dragon Orb while you're at it!" Her jaw dropped, when Arngrim didn't say anything "No… you didn't…"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time?"

She exploded into movement. However, Arngrim was just as fast as he moved to the opposite side of the table. Whenever she moved left, he moved left, when she moved right, he moved right. The two were locked in a stalemate. "You get over here, so that I may punish you properly!"

"C'mon you guys, this isn't going to help anything. I think we have bigger fish to fry at the moment." Mylan said, though he was still trying to wrap his head around the idea that the Philosophers Stone wasn't just some myth.

"You are right. This issue must be resolved immediately, and there will be plenty of time to properly smite Arngrim and Lord Rufus later. Are the notes the only thing needed to stop the plague?" The mage nodded, then handed her the stack of papers, and she immediately deposited them into the INVENTORY. "Good, I want everything, the research, the experiments, even this house to be purged." She made an about-face and began to march across the lab, where the others were waiting "Everyone! Prepare yourselves for battle, we are going to **war**!" she boomed as all of the Einherjar, save Mylan who was launching fireballs in random directions, disappeared in speckles of light. After a few moments Mylan ran up to her, most of the lab was going up in a roaring blaze, so Mylan had to yell to be heard over the flames. "It's done ma'am!"

"You are sure that nothing will be left behind?" To this Mylan pointed to an entire stock of large wooden crates, some of them were already on fire. "Half of those supplies are extremely volatile! I'd say we've got about five minutes before this place goes up in a mushroom cloud!" Hrist looked pleased, and unsummoned the man, like the others he disappeared in a series of speckled lights.

Earlier, she had noticed a ramp that lead to a large set of wooden doors. Arngrim explained that that was a loading ramp, and was how they brought in large crates and equipment that would never fit through the house. Hrist was going to use this as her escape.

She reached into the air and in her hands a spear that was as long as she was tall, and made of raw energy, formed into her hands. Rippling and rumbling with pure power the Valkyrie took aim.

"Rah!" the glowing missile streaked across the room and slammed into the doors with devastating and spectacular results. The doors, and the stone around it, exploded into a million pieces as the resulting boom shook the entire mansion.

Just as she was about to make her escape, something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

The Dragon

Sensing the danger, it pulled and struggled against its bonds but couldn't escape. After a moment, it resigned itself to its fate and slumped its head to the ground. However, when it saw the battle maiden staring at him he gave her that look again. A look that said it would deny her any pleasure of seeing it whimper or beg for its life. In defiance of everything this beast had gone through, it refused to show anything any weakness for committing the crime of merely existing.

Maybe she took pity on the restrained beast, or maybe she felt like it would be an injustice to allow something that has done nobody any wrong to die without a fighting chance. Maybe she felt like she could relate to this creature, simply because it was too stubborn to be broken.

Or maybe… just maybe she understood the value of being granted a second chance to prove them all wrong.

Whatever the reason, the goddess found herself marching over and summoning her halberd. With a graceful strike, a set of chains that had been holding the beast was destroyed. Soon after, another followed, and then another till there was nothing holding the prisoner in place.

Bones creaked, joints popped and the sound of wings stretching were all heard as the mighty beast stood for the first time, in what had to be ages, and stretched. Two of the mightiest beings in the land stared each other down before an explosion reminded them of how little time they had.

"Do not mistake my mercy beast. The next time we meet, I _will_ end your life. I merely feel that you deserve the chance to do so on your feet." Whether or not it understood, they had to get out. The sounds of glass bottles shattering and the groan of failing support structure were now heard over the flames.

"_I hope you know what you're doing" _Arngrim said from somewhere inside her soul. If she knew what she was doing she would have said so, but in all honesty, she didn't.

She really didn't.

xxxx

Hrist had flown in low, staying just above the tree line, to avoid detection. The Valkyrie and her Einherjar stood just outside the darkness, which encircled the temple of the All-Father. Dusk had fallen hours ago and she used the dark, as well as the foliage as cover. The moon was clear, and she could see them. Some of the enemy soldiers were gathered around a small fire, cooking something inside of a small pot, while others were loading up horses and sacks with whatever was plundered from the vault. Obvious shifts had been set up. She could see that some were sleeping inside tents, while others patrolled the area, though they seemed bored, and thus probably weren't that vigilant. An unfortunate mistake, for the reaper was now upon them.

The soft crunch of dirt beneath heavy boots announced Arngrim's presence by her side, most likely making his own tactical assessment. The others were quiet within her soul, awaiting instruction from their leader. Arngrim finally broke the silence, though he spoke quietly and began to make his tactical assessment.

"Looks like they boxed themselves in… if we lure them into the center, we should be able to take em out by hitting that supply cache there." He pointed to a stack of crates, next to their tents.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Standard defence tactics is to keep all flammables as far away from walls as possible." They mercs weren't dumb, being surrounded by thick forest presented a tactical nightmare. The overlapping shadows, and eerie fog that flowed through the trees like water, would never allow them to see any advancing hostile until it was too late. The best way to counter this was to fortify their position. Using resources from the forest they had built crude, though sturdy looking, wooden barricades around the entire site. This, in addition to booby traps and wicked looking spikes, made a formidable little fort. Unfortunetly for them, this also trapped them within. Hrist nodded in agreement with Arngrim's plan. But there was one other question on his mind.

"How do you wanna handle this?" He asked, though he already knew the answer. This was where Hrist differed from her sisters. Hrist always preferred absolute solutions. By nature she was a perfectionist, and didn't like to leave loose ends. Everyone, including the mercs, now knew where the vault was. Since the mansion burned down, nobody would be able to unearth Marcus's work, but that was only half the problem. There was only one sure way to make sure that its location was kept secret.

"No Prisoners. Nobody escapes." She stated coldly. She kept her face stoic, but Arngrim knew her too well to be fooled. The mercenary was very good at reading people. A necessary skill when trying to negotiate his fee's, or when trying to predict if someone is about to betray him. Right now she was all but screaming her distaste for what she was about to do. He could see it in the way she clenched her jaw, and the way ground her fingers into her palm, but the biggest giveaway was the way she kept touching her sword.

The sword on her hip made her feel safe. He realized this early on in their travels together, so he became used to her unconscious need to touch the weapon when she felt anxious or upset. He is mildly surprised at himself for being able to spot these things in her, but being able to identify an angry Hrist was _never_ a bad thing. Somehow though, the thought that she will get no joy in what she is about to do, reassures him.

The Einherjar within her soul begin to stir, and she can almost feel the protest that they are reluctant to voice. _"Lady Valkyrie"_ the mage is the first to speak _"do we really have no choice but to kill them all?" _he asked.

"_Ya, that seems kind of… harsh."_ Roderick added. Though they can't see her, the Valkyrie shakes her head. "No… A line has been drawn. It does not matter who they are." Arngrim gave her a curious stare, but quickly figures out that she isn't talking to him. "These men are not innocent civilians, knowingly or not, they have aligned themselves with the enemy. If I allow them to leave, they will only bring more here. Countless have died at the hands of their plans, and tomorrow countless more shall share the same fate." She paused for a moment, as she chose her next words. "Sometimes, we must do regrettable things to ensure the safety of Midgard…It is our burden, It is who we are" she added as an afterthought. She turned to Arngrim. "Are you ready?" Arngrim nodded quietly.

xx

A tall dark man, walked amongst the mercenary army, dressed in the same dark robes as the other apostles, it was easy to see that he was one of Marcus's men. The others were inside, helping with the barriers of the vault. The mercs only knew him as Loric, and as far as they knew, he was a friendly scholar, and worshiper of the gods. However what they didn't know was that he was one of Marcus's top lieutenants, and a complete sociopath. From a young age, Marcus had taken him under his wing and taught him everything he knew, from spellcraft to the art of manipulation. And in return Loric acted as his enforcer, without the ability to feel empathy, or remorse, he was usually the one to extract information from prisoners, and act as publicist. The last secret that Marcus had to teach him was how he never seemed to age. And thus until he learned, he would remain loyal to him.

He rounded the temporary barracks, which was nothing more than a bunch of tents, and decided that he wanted some coffee. He found that the soldiers were pretty amiable. The fact that their expedition had turned up so many valuables really lightened their moods. So many in fact, that they were going to have to make a return trip. Though he found most of them to be nothing more than mindless meatheads, talking to them would help pass the night. On the way to the group, he heard something that made him stop dead in his tracks. He looked up, and saw a single black raven, slowly circling the sky above them, cawing away.

That couldn't be good…

Nature had funny little ways of warning people, who knew what to look for, of major catastrophic events. Like animals running away from a shore, days before a massive tidal wave, or dogs barking before an earthquake. During the whole trip here, he never once noticed any ravens in the woods. And now there was suddenly one flying above the camp? Loric made his way to one of the passing patrols, and intended to ask them how long that bird had been nearby.

_**FRRWOOOOMMM**_

Something that looked like a glowing spear, launched from the ground and streaked to the sky. So bright and brimming power, it lit up the entire camp as it as it continued its ascent. Heads poked out of their respective tents, wandering patrols stopped mid step, and everyone looked up with a collective 'what the hel?' as the glowing missile started to gently ark in the air, and began its journey back to the ground. Loric fallowed its most likely path, and saw that it was heading straight towards the merc's supply cache, right next to their barracks. '_Blasting powder and lamp oil!' _was the only thought that popped into his head.

What happened next was something he would never be able to fully recall.

He remembered seeing some of the woken soldiers try to make a break for it. Some of them were not even dressed as they tried to sprint from the doomed tents, but none of them made it. Never remembered the sound, but he remembered the mute flash, as the Valkyrie spear slammed into the cache, but nothing else. The next thing he knew he was picking himself off the ground. Partially deaf, he could still pick out the sound of debris whistling through the air and landing on the ground. Something landed next to him with a soft thud, and caused him to look over.

Gods, it was somebody's leg.

Scrambling away from the charred piece of meat, he managed to pull himself off the ground. The acrid smell of smoke and the orange haze of firelight forced Loric to bring himself to his senses. _We're under attack. _He finally thought to himself. He looked over and saw Neemeth the mercenary captain; he was shouting something, barking orders, which he couldn't make out. After a few seconds the ringing began to fade and he could make out his words. Surprisingly, chaos did not take hold of the men, as he was directing them.

"…Surround her!" he screamed, pointing with his own sword "She's outnumbered and she's in our territory, we can take her!" With shouted orders, the captain had the entire camp moving. Through the smoke and the flurry of movement, he could make out the form of their intruder. The initial explosion had rendered him night-blind, so he couldn't see any detail, but with each move the light reflects off of the intruder's armor and blades. The hired army readied their weapons, swords, spears, and axes they move in. The sound of clashing steel was immediately followed by cries of pain. Something in the fire exploded, probably one of the barrels of oil, whatever it was it caused the flames to flare, spilling light across the entire camp.

A single woman, clad in jet black armor, stood in the center of a ring of bodies.

With the swing of a massive halberd, they saw one of their men's head tilt back in a silent scream, and a gout of blood poured out of his neck. He crumples to the floor, and he finally gets to have a good look at her. Golden eyes, form fitting armor and a long skirt stood out in the night. She seemingly danced around the mercs, cutting them down like tall weeds. An unstoppable force of nature, he knew exactly what she was.

_Valkyrie_

In all reality, Hrist didn't really have senses that were higher than most humans, but she didn't need to see them with her eyes; she could actually feel them all around her. Their life forces flared brightly, telling her exactly where they were. She could sense their fear, their desperation; there would be no hiding from her.

She would show them no mercy, no pity; she intended to kill them all.

Xxxx

_Odin stood before a young woman, new to existence, she knew nothing of the world. Completely dependent on his information, she stands ready, eager to please the only voice she has ever known as she receives her final lessons. "You are a defender of the land, a soldier whom is responsible for the safety of all that dwell within Midgard. You must always remember that those that stand before you, with the intent to do you harm, are always the enemy. _

"_There can be no exceptions. _

"_Know that your hesitation will cost you your life, and in turn you will fail those that depend on you." She stands tall, taking everything he said to heart. She vows to never hesitate. Odin places a hand upon her shoulder. "Know this, my young Valkyrie, that sometimes in order to rid the world of evil, you must do things that many would consider evil themselves. Midgard is a harsh place… those who take advantage of those that are good sacrifice their right to live. They well never play by anybody's rules, so you should never play by theirs." He begins to walk circles around her, scrutinizing her posture, her expression, and the power that runs through her veins. She knew that failure was not an option. She would meet her opposition head on, and she would come out on top._

"_In battle, there is a slight gap between life and death. It is you, versus them. You must earn everything you get, never allow them to give you anything. Those that fight, will try to prey upon your weakness. You must survive on your own vibrant power." The all-father looked over the naive being, and decided that he could teach her nothing more. She would be forces to learn her remaining lessons through the harsh necessities of life itself. "There will be times… when you will be afraid, when you will be lost, when you think that you will hesitate. When this time comes, you must never forget…"_

_With expectant eyes, she waits for him to finish. These are the lessons that will forever define her life. _

"…_Never forget, that you are the mightiest weapon."He turns from her and begins to walk away._

"_Now go forth child… be strong…"_

_Xxxx_

_She's so strong. _

The mercenaries charge her en mass. Dozens of them come at her, and still she cuts them down with extreme efficiency. Moving amongst them like a whirlwind of death, she makes short work of them. The crashes of steel and their screams continue fill the night.

The mercs effectively surround her, threatening to overwhelm her. But instead of charging through them, she takes a step back and raises a hand to the air. She speaks in a voice that echoes in their heads, like a thousand speaking at once.

"_Come to me dark warriors, defend your Valkyrie…"_

Suddenly, and literally out of nowhere, Loric sees a massive Viking strike a man down. And he's not the only one. An arrow slams into the skull of a merc, and bolt of lightning strikes another. One man desperately tried to defend himself from a massive man with an appropriately massive sword, but he too falls victim to their unilateral assault.

A lot of things suddenly make sense. Marcus knew that eventually it would come to this. He knew that the gods would send their right hand to end their lives. He had ordered Loric and the other apostles to gather as much tactical data on the Valkyries as possible. But there was almost nothing to be found. People worshipped the Battle Maidens, they told stories of their beauty, their honor, but there was nothing about how they fight. The only things available were locations, places where they struck, warnings of what would happen should anyone incur their wrath. But now he understood.

Nobody could describe how they fought, because nobody has ever survived.

It was impossible to count how many were dead now. They weren't even trying to fight anymore. They were trying to, retreat, to flee with their lives, tripping over the bodies of their fallen, The dark Valkyrie, and her warriors continued to indiscriminately slaughter them. Loric could only stare, in shear awe at her face. She's so gods damned serene, like an avenging angel she moves right through.

They were being cornered, and hopelessly slaughtered, the merc captain tries his best to maintain a semblance of order.

"Fall back! Retreat back to the temple!"

The few that remain make a mad dash towards the temple gates. Loric manages to make it inside and escape the killing spree that is currently taking place. By now everyone knows what is going on, and the other apostles move in and seal the door. Anyone left outside is left to fend for themselves as they cast Guard, Protect, Shell, any number of defensive spells on the heavy wooden doors to stop the intruders. With so many enchantments, the door began to glow a miasma of color.

They listen in horror, as the fighting continues outside. Muffled screams, cries of terror continue for only a few minutes more. Then there is nothing.

_Silence _

They're all dead. In less time than anyone could have ever thought possible they're all dead…

One of the hired soldiers falls to the ground, with a sort of half laugh half cry, he begins to rant. "Oh my god! We're gonna die! Did you see what she did out there?" nobody was really listening; everybody was in a kind of trance, still in shock over what happened out there.

"They're dead! She killed them all, and now she's going to kill us too!"

Soon the others are joined by Marcus and the other apostles. Loric turns to his leader, still a little light-headed from the explosion, he gathers his wits. "We've got company" he says "I think they've found us…"

This was not good, Marcus needed more time. He racked his brain for a plan, there was no way to hold them off forever. In spite of how many enchantments they had on the door, there was no way it would hold of a Valkyrie for very long.

"-holy gods, did you see those eyes? How did she get-" he stopped when Marcus grabbed him and began to shake him. "Shut up! I need you to stay here and hold the door." The half dozen remaining mercs, out of the original platoon, stared at Marcus with disbelieving faces. Nobody could really blame them. They did just see a single woman reduce their forces to about a mere dozen. The captain marched up to him, anger written across his face. "Are you kidding me? I don't even know what the hel we're up against! You don't pay us enough to die! "

"Fool" Marcus shot back "we know teleportation spells. We can still escape, but it takes time."

It was kinda true; he didn't lie about the teleportation. And he did need them to stall her for time to do it. But what they didn't know was that they could only teleport themselves. Even if he could save them, he honestly did not give a crap about them.

BOOM!

The entire room shook, as something hard hit the door. This, along with the clatter of objects hitting the ground, added to the terror of what was waiting on the other side of the door. The spells used to reinforce the door held, but they flickered and grew weaker. They didn't have much time.

"Fine! Go do it then, sorcerer." The remaining soldiers took positions. Marcus and most of the apostils retreat to the vault, leaving the remaining mercs to slow the goddesses' advance. One of the survivors happens to be an archer and took cover behind a pillar. Two of the apostils remained to give them magical aid. Again the whole room shook with a loud BOOM, as the door was hit again. Sweaty hands and fearful eyes watched the door, as the intruders slammed into it again and again.

Words cannot describe the anxiety in the air, as their only barrier bulged and weakened. The heavy wood splintered and even the stone around it began to crack. With a final bone jarring slam, the door cracked. The magical barriers had broken, now all that separated them from their impending doom, was a single piece of splintered wood. There was an impossible long moment of silence as they waited for them bust in.

They did not.

"I think we're safe…" their archer said. The captain smacked a hand to his forehead.

It is a common and well known fact, that if one is to survive a dangerous situation, _you do not tempt fate_. It goes right along the laws of not wearing red shirts, or dismissing that ominous sound as _'just the wind'_. Hel, he was probably one of those people who take their summers at Camp Crystal Lake and names himself Billy (people named Billy never survive).

And sure enough, and probably because he said it, the heavy stone ceiling above them exploded in.

Xxxx

"Damn it!" Marcus snarled, and the whole room shook again. Breaking his concentration and disrupting the arcane circles he was trying to write. Whatever it was, it sounded like they had gotten in. If there were any sounds of men dying, or anything for that matter, it was washed over by the thunderous roar of the ceiling caving in the next room. Behind him he could hear, and feel, the distinctive signatures' of monsters being summoned. Various screeches and roars, were heard as the apostles summoned their familiars to make their last stand. Teleportation spells were quick, but he failed to unlock the Philosophers stone from its pedestal in time. So now he was just going to go ahead and Teleport the whole damned section of vault with him.

Unfortunately this was a tall order, and he was going to have to not let himself get distracted.

"_Goddess Nanna grant me your hand, and connect thine road…" _he chanted as he furiously scribbled intricate symbols around the pedestal with a piece of chalk.

Imps, sword wielding undead, and even a Minitor, watched the cloud of dust that emerged from the archway. The few choking sounds of the last mercs had died out a few seconds ago. Now there were only sounds were the hissing of the imps and the heavy breathing of the Minitor. The imps stood closest to the rolling cloud of dust that roiled out of the doorway. The collapse had taken out the magical torches that lit the worship area, and the dust made seeing anything impossible.

Imps were pretty much useless, when it comes to anything really. They were noisy, and smelled. Too stupid to give any typed of complex order outside of 'stand here' or 'eat that'. They were basically the rats of hel. They sure as hell weren't good fighters either. Anyone with a sword could kill one without too much hassle. Their only virtues were that they were cheap and easy to summon. In large numbers they made for great cannon fodder, and thus were good distractions. Between the 11 remaining apostiles they were able to summon almost 20 imps. Behind the imps were 5 undead swordsmen. A bit more formidable, they would at least be able to put up a fight. The real threat however, would be the Minitor. Standing at almost 17 feet, he was a behemoth of ungodly beefy muscle. Huge hoofs, which were easily the size of a dinner plate, and its hands that could easily crush a human skull. And that was _if_ it didn't try to gore them with its massive 3 foot bullhorns. If there was any hope to mount a suitable defense, it rested on its shoulders. This combined with the apostiles magical abilities, gave them hope that they may be able to repel the assault.

Or so they thought.

Right out of the smoke, like something they've only read about in stories, they exploded into the room. With the Viking and the mercenary at both of her sides, the Valkyrie and her Einherjar moved as one. The imps, threw themselves at them, but they gracefully slaughtered them without even slowing down. The apostles launched a volley of fireballs and lightning bolts, only to have them impact an invisible wall just short of their assailants. Behind them Mylan's hands were aglow with a yellow light as he held up a Guard Up spell for them.

Roderick took up the rear, and immediately began prioritizing his targets.

"…_I bid thee, bind these points and grant me passage through your valley!"_ The chalk markings and even the ground around Marcus began to glow, casting much of the room in silver light. He gave a short laugh of victory. He did it, the spell was cast, and all it needed was a little time.

The time part was the problem. He turned and saw the terrible carnage the Goddess and her compatriots were causing. Imps were slaughtered everywhere. He actually watched the Viking pick one of the ugly little critters up and whip it at a wall. It died with a loud pop and a circular spray of red that marked its impact.

Marcus had heard long ago, that Valkyries chose only the strongest, most valiant of warriors. That they would walk through battlefields, where thousands had fallen, and only choose one or two souls to accompany them. Somehow, seeing these people in action, he knew it to be true, each one of them was a master of their respected talents.

"Arngrim, go after the Dragon Orb! Cromm, assault the undead. Rod, Mylan, lay down cover for us! "

"You got it" Arngrim said, and took off at a sprint, choosing a path that would leave the least resistance between him and the cultists holding the Dragon Orb. Rod took off and ran for one of the pillars, using it as cover. He began targeting for any ranged enemies that would impede their assault such as Mage's and enemy snipers, while Mylan continued to counter incoming spells.

Roderick popped himself out of cover and hit one of the cultist with a perfect head shot.

Much like the long standing battle of crunchy vs creamy peanut butter, archers and mages were long time rivals over who's the best ranged fighter. Archers would argue that in the time it takes for a mages to cast a spell, they would could've shot so many arrows into those 'bookworm bitches' that the only choice would be for them to go and stand in the corner to act as a coat hanger. To this you would hear the mage's say that, while they are too busy playing with their wood, they will cook, freeze, and/or de-atomize their stick-throwing asses in new and interesting ways.

Rod popped out of cover and shot an arrow into another one of the cultists while in mid-cast. His buddies watched him fall and took cover themselves. He could make out some of them chanting, summoning power to return fire. (possibly with actual fire)

"Ya, you guys go ahead and take your time chanting! I'm sure you guys have all day!" Rod taunted with a laugh. However after a few seconds of silence from them, they taunted back.

"_No problem, just let us know, when you're tired of holding your wood!" _Uproarious laughter could be heard from where they hid. _"Do your hands ever hurt from handling all of those shafts!" _another said, with more laughter as Rod groaned, and then he looked up and glared at Mylan, as he was snickering too.

"What? You have to admit it was kind of funny." The mage placed his hand over his face and tried not to laugh, and Rod huffed.

He was so going to kick their asses.

Meanwhile Hrist Valkyrie moved right down the center. Dead set on her mark, she would destroy all who stood in her way. The Minitor had different ideas though. With a deafening roar, a sound that was punctuated by a heavy hoof stomping the ground. It lowered its head, and she found two massive horns pointing right at her.

It was going to charge.

Keeping her feet wide she readied herself for the beast. The massive head of the bull snorted at her, sending little clouds of vapor in either direction. With another roar, it began to run at her. One of the undead swordsmen, dutifully keeping a guard position between the Valkyrie and Marcus, happened to be in the way. Without even slowing itself the beast speared him, the body was still writhing as it slid down its horn, all the way to its pig-like-snout. Swinging its head in an arc, the body was thrown off and landed with an unsavory crunch as Hrist waited for the creature to come to her. Nearly as wide as it was tall, it seemed to be moving at a slow pace, but it was at a full run.

The Minitor lowered its head at her, intending to impale her. Hrist waited for the last possible second, right when the beast was upon her, and she leapt upwards into the air. Stepping upon the massive snout for leverage she leapt again, sending her over its head, and exposing its back. In a display of just how lithe she really was, she twisted and turned in the air so that her halberd was pointing downward. With a loud grunt, she drove her halberd into its back as hard as she could. The pike and blade sunk right in, the Minitor screamed in pain and started bucking about, throwing the Valkyrie off. Hrist crashed to the ground and slid a few feet. Her world dazed, she could see the massive beast struggle, trying in vain to reach behind its back and pull her halberd out.

Unable to pull the offending weapon out, it turned its sights back on Hrist, whom was still on the ground. Its eyes red with rage, it roared, stomped its foot then charged again.

But before it made it more than a few feet, a bolt of lightning struck its thigh, causing the beast to stumble. It tried to get back up, but out of nowhere Cromm made a mad dash and jumped on its back, and mounted it like a professional bullrider. He dropped his war axe and put both of his hands on either side of its head.

"Yee-haww!" Cromm whooped and hollered like a drunken Viking cowboy as the abomination tried to throw him off. However a combination of blood loss and the Cromms weight slowed it down enough for him to stay on. He was evidently having the time of his life. "Cmon ya big wuss! My last girlfriend bucked harda than this!" (he didn't mention that she was about as hairy)

Disturbing visuals aside, Mylan raised his wand to the air and took aim "let's see how it likes this!" Mylan cried and launched a fireball, this time striking it in the chest, just below where Cromm was riding. The Minitor bellowed a tired cry and fell on its chest.

Now that his feet could reach the ground Cromm took advantage of the leverage and began to roll and twist the Minitor's head, looking to either snap its neck, or tear its head off completely.

"Ha! Rip its head off Cromm!" Arngrim yelled, and kicked a rotting swordsman off of his blade.

But to everyone's astonishment, the massive beast planted its human like arms into the ground and hefted itself back up. Cromm didn't give up though. "Cmon you ugly sucker. I'm gonna make a new helmet outta yer horns!" The godless cross of man and bull continued to flail about, trying to dislodge the bullriding Viking, as he continued to pull on its head.

Then without warning the Minitor stopped flailing, and charged at the nearest wall. Cromm held on for dear life as he watched the wall come right at him.

"Aww fu-" was all he was able to get out before the rampaging beast slammed into the wall. Causing the Viking to fly off and 'pancake' against the wall.

Arngrim saw the whole affair, but couldn't divert his attention from the task at hand. He had finally managed to reach the apostle with the dragon orb strapped to his back (it was easy to spot the only man smuggling what looked like a basketball in a pouch), and had locked blades with him. The cultist jumped back and his hand began to glow. Arngrim saw it, and rolled to the side, just in time to dodge a nasty looking fireball, and was instantly back into a prone position before the cultist knew it.

"Hey, heads up!" he said. The cultist didn't even get a chance to say 'huh?' before Arngrim swung his blade and decapitated him. With a victorious smirked he snatched up the Dragon orb and looked around. To his dismay nobody had been close enough to hear his cool one-liner.

Aww…

The Minitor was looming over an unconscious Cromm, and raised a large hoof to the air. It was obvious what he was about to do, but just before he could crush the Viking. An arrow slammed into its head, with a gristly sounding _'THOK'._

"Suck on that, bit- OH SHIT" Rod ducked back behind cover as 2 fireballs and a bolt of lightning flew perilously close to him. "A little help here!" Mylan obliged, by launching a volley of fireballs at the enemy casters. A couple of them fell to the ground and desperately tried to put themselves out, while others ran to aid their burning compatriots; Rod took advantage of their distraction by jumping out of cover, and nailing another one of the cultists.

Though Roderick's arrow was a direct headshot, the Minitor's skull proved to be too thick to penetrate its brain. But obviously the Minitor was very unhappy at his new horn protruding out of its head. It stomped around, in an angry rage. Hrist had pulled herself off of the ground, and drew her sword. She'd much rather have her halberd, but that wasn't really an option as it was still stuck in its back. Before it even knew she was coming, the goddess was on him. Furiously slashing at any part of its body, the Minitor cried out in pain and started swinging angry firsts at the Valkyrie. But each time it tried hit her, Hrist nimbly danced out of the way. She was simply too fast, and the battered Minitor was starting to lose its strength.

"Lady Valkyrie, lure it to the center!" Rod cried, and with absolute trust in her Einherjar, Hrist started to do just that. With each stomp, and swing of its fists, the Minitor was slowly being lead to the center and directly in front of the archer.

"I got it! Move!" Roderick's arrow began to shine brilliantly, almost like a small star. Hrist saw this and knew exactly what he was going to do. Rather than run, she pointed her hand and projected herself away in a photon. The raging beast opted to chase the bead of Violet light, but right then Mylan summoned a Frigid Damsel. The tiny being of pure cold streaked to the Minitor and embraced one of its legs, the appendage was instantly encases in ice, effectively stopping its progress. Again it roared and started pounding at the ice around its leg. It would be free in a second, but that was all Roderick needed.

"You're going down buddy…" He lined the shot with his shimmering arrow. "_PULVERISING STORM!_" he cried. In a moment of sheer awe, the single arrow he launched became dozens, and then those dozens became hundreds. It was like an entire army of archers had fired at once.

The move was far from efficient. Many of the arrows fell short, and landed on the ground, while many more flew over its head. However for every arrow that missed, two more struck the dying Monster. They landed everywhere, its chest its arms were absolutely riddled with them. They struck its head and legs, and as fast as the attack had started, it was over.

Finally the Minitor dropped to his knees, and fell backwards, dead. With the massive handle of her halberd sticking out of its back, and all of the arrows riddling its front, the dead beast looked sort of like a big toilet brush.

"That… _Was AWESOME!_" Cromm cried, evidently having gained consciousness just in time to witness the spectacle. He ran up to Rod, and they chest bumped. This of course caused the smaller archer to fly back a foot and land on his back with an 'oof'. Right about that moment Arngrim strolled up and held up a bag, with a victorious grin on his face. "I got the Orb, and it looks like the rest retreated to the top." Mylan looked at the dead beast, holding his nose. "I didn't think that thing could smell any worse while it was alive. I stand corrected"

No Valkyrie had ever been so proud of her Einherjar.

The temple was a mess. Bodies littered floor, blood was everywhere, and not to mention she had obliterated the worshiping section to get the last of the mercs. Hrist did not envy whoever had to clean this up.

Her attention was brought up to the small flight of stairs that led up to the platform, where the Philosophers' Stone rested. The entire upper part of the platform was glowing. Mid teleportation, but considering that Marcus was trying to teleport the entire area, it was slow going. Only 4 of the cultists and Marcus himself remained. They stood within the light, hoping to hitch a ride to safety.

Hrist Valkyrie looked to her soldiers. "Wait here, I shall make short work of these men." She said coolly, once again regaining her icy composure. She walked past the dead Minitor, and casually pulled her halberd out without breaking stride. Back in her hands, she unsummoned the weapon.

She casually walked up the steps and approached the platform. But just before she entered the glowing part she stopped. The cultists took a step back in fear as she curiously looked around in front of her, like she was examining an invisible wall. Arngrim and the others looked with wonder in their eyes as to why she paused.

Human eyes couldn't see it, but she could. She reached out, and sure enough the air in front of her rippled as she confirmed the barrier. _'They're using the vault's own defenses to hold me off… clever.'_

Cold, golden eyes stared at the men in front her. None of them seemed like they wanted to talk. They were unsure of what she planned to do, even though the heavy barrier was up. Only one of them was bold enough to stand near the other side and look her defiantly in the eyes. Hrist could only guess who he was.

"I've come a long way seeking you mortal. I've walked through the streets of the dead" she spoke calmly, coolly, like she was doing nothing more than telling him about the weather. "I've seen many of their faces. Children, mothers, farmers, people who do nothing more than try to make a life for themselves." The other cultists exchanged looks between Marcus and the face of their death, waiting to see how this all turned out. The teleportation spell was so close, just another few minutes. But Unfortunetly those few minutes might as well have been hours, for all the good it did them.

"Never in my existence, have I seen so much grief and pain… So before I render my judgment, I feel that I must ask you this one question. Why?"

"And what do you care of my methods?" He hissed "Are you going to tell me next that the god's hands are all clean of such atrocities?" he shook his head and began to pace behind his barrier. "I had a vision of how the world should really be. You do nothing but cause conflict, by favoring one nation and denying others. I've seen the way you puppet your frustrations through the guise of blinded faith!" If his words upset the Valkyrie in anyway, she never showed it. "Everything that exists must change, to adapt to the times. However, the only thing that never changes is you, and your fellow gods. And because of this-"

"That which does not grow, falls into decay?" she interrupted by taking a page right out of Lezards book and quoting him. "You disappoint me. Not only is this plan unoriginal, but the man before you, did it with far better flair." She took a few steps back, and drew her sword. The blade began to shimmer and shine brilliantly.

"You'll never understand my plans…" Marcus said.

"No, I suppose I shall not." She said and pointed her glowing blade at him. "In the name of our all-father, Lord Rufus, I hereby condemn your souls to purification." Marcus fumbled in his robe for his dagger, and anything else that my help him. His hands came on his small hourglass containing the sands of time, which he made. It would slow everything down for a few seconds, and thus give him more time to react (think bullet-time).

Or it would give him the dubious honor, of literally having the slowest soul purification in the world.

The latter he decided might suck.

"May this forever be engraved upon your souls." She said. Everyone backed up from the barrier, they had no idea what was in store for them, but they were pretty darn sure that it was going to ruin their day.

"DIVINE ASSAULT!" She screamed, and struck the barrier. Marcus flipped his hourglass, a disorientating lurch of his stomach and the sudden deepening of all sound indicated that it worked. In slow motion he saw her strike the barrier again, this time causing a huge flash as the as it winked out of existence. The fall of the defense caused a small shockwave and threw Marcus off balance. The hourglass, containing the sands of time flew from his hands. Had his attention not been focused on the predatory look of the ever approaching Valkyrie, he would have seen it hit the ground and shatter.

And that was when the proverbial/cosmic shit hit the fan.

Magic, or any of the arcane sciences for that matter, were still a great mystery to all of mankind. New effects were always being discovered, and many would devote their entire lives to trying to understand even the most basic principles. The second the Sands of Time, free of its glass prison, touch the ground and it began to sizzle. Without the small hourglass to give it a certain direction, it went in every direction or 'fluxing' as some would call it. On any normal occasion this was a harmless event, but the power that was once holding up the barrier was still there, and was now super-powering the anomaly, creating a super flux. This now 'super flux', reacted with the teleportation spell that was still in mid progress.

Teleportation spells work by taking two points and creating a 'shortcut' between them, by making a rift in the fabric of time and space. Freya herself travels using this principle. When the super-flux met the teleportation spell, it was instantly given direction (which was basically through the empty void of time and space). Between Marcus and Hrist, they had basically created a flux-capacitor and set a course. Now the only thing that they required was a catalyst, and something to refine the event, and deliver the necessary 1.21 gigawatts of energy.

Unfortunetly for Hrist, she was in the middle of that very event. Her Nibelung Valesti, that was initially intended to purify Marcus's soul, purified the event instead, and the energy behind her soul crushing move kick-started the chain reaction.

Between the two of them, they pretty much had successfully divided by zero.

Hrist knew that something was wrong. Time slowed even further, and came to a crawl. She was still coming at him, but the closer they got to each other the slower they went. The point of Hrist's blade was a mere few inches away from his chest. But just before she could make contact, time came to a screeching halt. _'NOOOO!' _She screamed, but her lips didn't move. She could hear herself, but she didn't know where her own voice was.

Unable to move the world around her begins to wash away. It looks almost like sand in the tide, as she continues to struggle. The blade was mere millimeters away, but she just couldn't reach him. Then the tip of her blade began to blow away like dust. Hrist could only watch in horror as the odd effect traveled right up her sword and through her hands. It didn't hurt, but she feels the numbness and is terrified. Its only seconds before the world falls away, and leads to darkness.

**OMG, this thing is going to be huge. The outline for this mutha is 45 pages long! I would also like to say that, i know that most people arent too big a fan of OC's. However though, I would like to point out that Hrist didn't really have any Einherjar of her own in the game, and i thought that she could use few people that were as loyal to her, as the others were to Silmeria. I promise, aside from the random town folk here and there, you'll start to see the regulars like, Jelanda, Celes, and many more. Anyway, i hope i didn't do to bad with the fighting (that crap is hard to write!), and that you shall be kind enough to leave a review.**


	4. Minor Setback

_Some days you win, some days you lose... and some days it rains. __- Crash Davis_

"_You'll never understand my plans…"_

"_No, I suppose I shall not." _Hrist said as she pointed her blade, which was glowing malevolently, at him.

"Holy crap lads, the lass's sword is glowing…" The pedo-stashed Viking said as he, and everyone else, stared in awe.

"So is she like… going to cut him and half or something?" Roderick asked, and then his face lit up as other ideas popped in his head "or maybe melt him! Cause melting would be totally awesome!" he said.

The mercenary almost chuckled at their excitement "Nope. _Way _cooler, she's gonna launch him into the air, and impale him with a bunch of big ass spears, then she flies and throws one the size of a tree." They all gave a collective 'ooooh' as they anticipated the show. Arngrim's seen this dozens of times, and it _never_ gets old.

"_In the name of our all-father, Lord Rufus…_" she spoke, and they could see the Marcus and the others scramble around, trying to escape, even though they were trapped in the barrier. Mylan tilted his head slightly as he suddenly had a thought.

"You say she flies into the air? If that's the case, I'm surprised she always wears a skirt then." the mage said absently.

Arngrim cleared his throat "Huh, I never noticed…"

Somebody give that man an Oscar. Cause the fact that he said that, with a straight face, was nothing short of academy award winning acting. There were times when he considered carrying around one of those little telescopes that ship captains' always seemed to favor. However, he was pretty sure that, if Hrist ever caught him, she'd use that very telescope to go down in medical history of inventing the Colonoscopy on Arngrim.

"_DIVINE ASSAULT!" _She screamed and struck the barrier with dazzling effects; sparks of bluish white light went everywhere. It was almost like someone was putting on a fireworks show right inside the vault. It was quite a sight.

Then it happened.

Something changed, something in the atmosphere. It was like an explosion, though with none of the physical effects. Whatever had happened, it seemed to shake the very foundations of reality itself, though completely unidentifiable. "Hey look!" Mylan said. Everyone's attention was back at the platform and they couldn't believe what they saw.

Hrist was frozen in place, mid Soul Crush. Marcus had fallen flat on his ass, and was staring at a shimmering blade that was inches from him. Unsure what to make of this, he turned to his followers, and they could only shrug. They've never had their souls purified before, they had no idea if this was part of the process. After a few more seconds, Hrist's blade stopped shimmering. Starting at the tip, the blade, then soon after it, she too began to disintegrate away until there was nothing left. Even the dust had vanished.

Nobody moved

Crazed Necromancers and Einherjar stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. The room was so quiet you could probably hear a pin drop, somebody coughed, and finally it was Roderick who broke the awkward standoff.

"Yeah… well… Just wait till the spears start…" he said lamely.

"KILL THEM!" Fireballs, and various other harmful spells came raining down around our heroes as the scrambled for cover. The four of them managed to dive behind the dead minitor, just as a particularly large fireball lit the spot they were just standing ablaze. The dead beast was large enough to provide adequate cover and shielded them from the searing heat. However the air was soon filled with the smell of burning hair, and oddly enough hamburgers. "Is it wrong, that ima wee bit hungry?" Cromm asked. It was pretty obvious that he was very uncomfortable, being the largest of the 4, he had a hard time trying to keep himself low enough not to expose any part of his body to the line of fire.

Mylan looked revolted "Yes, you idiot! How can you even think about food right now?" The Viking's eyebrows furrowed in anger "You listen here you little-"

"God damn it, Shut Up!" Arngrim growled.

Holy crap, how the hell did Hrist manage to deal with these people? He looked over and saw the stricken looks on their faces, and immediately regretted snapping at them. Now that he thought about it, they'd never actually seen him get mad before, as he usually did a pretty good job at keeping his cool. _'Great, now I feel bad'_ He thought, mostly because it wasn't them he was mad at.

It's a little hard to explain, but in order to create an Einherjar; a Valkyrie has to use a small fragment of their very own soul. This fragment is used to create an… anchor point, I guess is the best way to put it. A hard-spot for a warrior's soul to hold on to and prevent them from being swept away to the cycle of rebirth.

This method served a lot of other purposes too. One of which, was that it also acted as an IFF (Identify Friendly/Foe) system which allowed the battle maidens to spot one of their own, even after a memory wipe. This also allowed Einherjar to dwell within their souls without being rejected and attacked as a foreign body. More importantly though (for the purposes of our story), it established a connection between a Valkyrie and her Einherjar. Whenever a Goddess of Fate was awakened, all of the Einherjar that belonged to that particular Valkyrie were instantly alerted. And right now Arngrim couldn't feel the connection anymore. He knew that something had happened to her. Hel, he could _feel _that she was dead, or worse, as the intangible line that binded him to her was left fraying in the wind. He had no idea how Marcus managed to kill someone as powerful as Hrist, but there was one thing he was pretty damned sure about.

The little prick was gonna pay…

More spells came slamming in; all of them showering sparks, frost, and small bits of stone they hit. Being that magic was his field of expertise, Mylan noticed that something wasn't right about their tactics.

Unlike the first volleys', the mage noticed that these were rushed and sloppily made. They were ill aimed and none of them were even coordinating. Fire, Ice, and Lightning, while devastating on their own, should never be casted at the same time as they tended to cancel each other out. Even now, a fireball impacted one of the Frigid Damsel spells and exploded in a huge ball of steam. The steam, now distorting the air, caused the lightning spells to veer off randomly and strike various parts of the vault. '_Its like they aren't even trying to hit us._' He thought and risked a peek to see the top of the platform. Sure enough, his suspicions were confirmed when he saw the tell tale glow coming from the ground the Necromancers stood on.

"Arngrim!" the mage yelled, trying to be heard over the crackle of power and random explosions "They're stalling for time! The Teleportation Spell is still active!" Arngrim leaned back against their meaty Minitor shield that acted as their cover, and let loose a frustrated growl.

'_Gods damned surprises and plot twists!_'

"What do we do lad? And…" the look on Cromm's face was obvious. He was replaying the whole scene in his head, trying to figure out what happened "…is the lass really dead?"

Damn it. As if the whole day wasn't already going to Hel, Arngrim realized that he, being the senior Einherjar, was now in charge since the others were looking to him for direction.

"We can't worry about that right now; we've got bigger problems deal with…" He saw the looks of genuine concern for what happened to their Valkyrie on their faces. He couldn't blame them, he sure as Hel knew he was "Nobody can really kill a Valkyrie; her soul just goes back to Valhalla. She'll be fine." He explained, though no one was really sure if he was trying to convince them or himself.

"But right now, we're about to fail the whole damned mission!" he said over the deafening noise of the battle. The whole interior of the vault was being turned to Swiss cheese. If this kept up, then they were going to risk a collapse.

"Hey!" Arngrim nodded to the archer "You think you can think thin their numbers any?"

Rod peered over the furry carcass, tying to gauge their distance, and immediately dropped back down as a huge bolt of lightning streaked right over their heads and struck the ground right next to them. They covered their heads, as it exploded with a resounding _**BOOM**_, and the four were pummeled with chunks of stone, dirt, and burning whatever. "Does that answer your question!" he yelled. However though, if Arngrim's ears rang as much as his did at the moment, then there was a good chance that he didn't hear him.

They were at a huge disadvantage. Marcus and the rest of his men now held the high ground. From their current position, neither Roderick nor Mylan could get a clean shot at any of the cultists, and storming them would require them to funnel themselves up the steps, thus making it a suicide run.

But at the same time, doing nothing will pretty much guarantee that they all get away with the Philosopher's Stone, _and_ the Heart of Brahms. So that pretty much left about two options. They could A: be total cowards about the whole thing, and stay put.

Or they could B: be big friggen heroes and do the only honorable thing.

"So how do you guys feel about being cowards?" Arngrim asked hopefully, but was met with 3 curious looks. "No?" the mercenary sighed "Fine, we'll be all heroic and crap…" he said, and then did a long pull from his 'water' canteen.

"Mylan, you know how to do any of the big spells? Like Meteor Swarm?" The mage blinked at him for a second "Well, yea… but-"

Another close call, from another lightning bolt, struck the ground not five from where they were at. After it stopped raining debris, he continued.

"-Yea, but I can't cast anything like that here! We'll bring the whole place down around us!" he said, but then he noticed the surprisingly calm look the former mercenary had on his face. It was like he was at peace with himself. "Aww, that's what you want isn't it…" he said despondently. The archer and the Viking were stunned into silence. Arngrim continued "Rod, on my mark, I want you to make a break for those pillars near the stairwell and just start shooting, it doesn't matter if you hit anything. Cromm, me and you are gonna rush'em head on." After a few seconds, Mylan found his voice again "my gods, you're serious…"

Arngrim gave a solemn nod while Rod and Cromm gave each other a frantic look then turned their heads back to Arngrim. "R-Really? Just like that? We'll be slaughtered!" the archer said nervously.

"Yup" He took another long drink "we gatta buy time for Mylan to cast. Our first duty is to Midgard and we have to keep it safe… even if it's with our lives." he gave them all a sidelong glance. "I just wanna say that it's been an honor…"

Cromm gave a sad smile of his own "lads, I just wanna say that as a Viking, I've done a lot of terrible things, to a lot of nice people… and stuff like that changes ya." Arngrim nodded knowingly "I didna think that there was redemption fer someone like me. But now that I'm here… part of something bigger than I could ever imagine, I realize just how foolish it all was." He looked to each of their faces individually "Here I am, a part of the lass's clan, I really feel like I can truly do somethin good fer the world… and for the first time since, Hel I don't even remember when, I truly felt like mah old self again." He reached around and grabbed his war axe "I dunno about you lads, but I've gots no regrets." The massive man smirked to himself, and then smiled joyously. "So I imma go out there and show those little buggers how Hrist's clan really does it! And by god, I'm really gonna give it all my might!"

"That was beautiful…" Mylan breathed in awe. Roderick opened his mouth, (ready to deliver his own epic and heartfelt speech) and paused when he was suddenly aware of how quiet it was. The others noticed it too and they peaked over the now-slightly-cooked Minitor. Marcus, his men, and most of the upper platform were gone.

"Aww crap" Arngrim said, pretty much giving voice to all of their thoughts.

"Ya know lads, when I get back, I'm gonna invent some way to warn people, when their speeches are running to long… maybe with music er sumthin"

"pfft, like that'll ever catch on"

X Minutes Later X

The four stood outside the ruined temple, and stared at the smoldering remains of the merc camp. Thunder rumbled somewhere off in the night sky, announcing that a storm was on the way. "So how the Hel, are we going to get back?" Mylan asked. Very much aware of how easy they've had it, since Hrist just flew them around everywhere. He then promptly deflated as he realized that he already knew the answer to that particular question. "We're going to have to walk back aren't we?" Arngrim nodded.

"Yup"

Roderick looked as his quiver, and only counted 6 arrows left. "I'm guessing that since Lady Hrist isn't here, we're cut off from the INVENTORY, or more importantly, my spare ammo…"

"Yup"

Cromm's stomach growled "So we're stuck out here in tha middle of the scariest woods known to man, without anything to eat or drink?"

"Yup"

Mylan flinched as the first raindrop slapped him right in the face. He now realized that having spent his entire life indoors studying arcane tomes, he had no idea how to survive in the wild. "So Arngrim, in your professional opinion, are we going to starve, get eaten, or die of exposure?" Mylan asked. The other two also looked to him, morbidly curious to know their most likely fate.

"I-"Arngrim was about to answer, then instantly shut his mouth as the foliage up ahead began rustle. The four readied their attacks of choice, ready to unleash Hel on whatever horrible beast that was about to step out. However, as it finally showed its face they all relaxed.

"Whew! It's only a baby deer." Rod said, relieved that it wasn't some godless, marauding, killing machine of an animal. "If something like a little deer can survive out here, I think we'll be able to make back through the Forest of Woe."

Mylan looked a bit closer, "Actually, the more precise term would be a Fawn. If you'll note the lack of antl-"

Suddenly there was a great, bellowing roar, followed by the sound of crackling branches. An enraged grizzly bear, apparently lurking from somewhere behind natures example of innocence, had seen the cuddly animal and decided that now was the time to strike. The baby fawn tried to escape but it was too late, the bear was upon it and was already mauling it to death. Our heroes watched the bloody miracle that was 'the great circle of life' for a few seconds before Mylan spoke up.

"…I don't even think he's trying to eat it. It looks like he's just being unnecessarily violent…" he said, and they all flinched at the sound of cracking bones. And just because it was the Forest of Woe, the food chain didn't end at bears at the top, not even by a long shot.

The sound of something large screeched in the sky, and was accompanied by the massive flap of wings. A Wyvern, (incidentally the same one that had been harassing Marcus and his men) swooped in and dug its talons into the massive furry predator, and in a moment that was truly surreal, they watched as the terrified bear was carried away, bellowing in terror into the night.

"Eaten. We are definitely going to be eaten." Arngrim said, finishing his earlier thought. The Forest of Woe is a god awful, horrible place. Ask anyone, and they would tell you that it all boiled down to two rules.

Rule number 1; is that whatever it is, it's probably poisonous. The frogs, the snakes, the bugs, hell even the friggin plants, were more than likely filled with some kind of murder juice.

Rule number 2; it's probably going to eat you. That's it, that's all there was to it. This too, applied to the frogs, the snakes, the bugs, and yes event the gods damned plants. If it was big, it was probably going to swallow you whole. If it was small, then you were probably going to be swarmed by hundreds of it.

It's like someone took every deadly animal from Australia, the Rain Forest, and the darkest, deepest depths of the ocean, mixed all into a single scary stretch of woods, filled it with a bunch of fog, and then poked them with a stick for good measure.

"Well bugger me sideways…" Cromm said, to which Mylan nodded.

"I have no idea what that means Cromm, but Marcus got away, he has some of the most powerful relics in existence, and even if we make it through the forest of bowel ejecting terror, we'll never make it back in time to warn anybody."

Mylan sighed, and then looked to the large Scandinavian man "So yes Cromm, for once, I think we can agree on something. Bugger _us all_ sideways…"

The sky rumbled and right about that moment, the rain started, full and torrential. Our heroes were soaked in seconds as the chilling winds lowered the temperatures to just above the freezing point. It was almost is if the weather heard Arngrim's statement about being eaten, and intended to prove him wrong.

"I'm gonna say it guys" rod said, through soaked hair "I think we are probably the unluckiest S-O-B's out here…"

Lightning struck the deer that had been mauled to death by the bear not moments earlier.

"I'm just gonna stop talking now."

X 4 days later, in the dead city of Escascia X

Amongst the silent destruction of a city, long dead from the plague, were two figures that looked, and moved, like a couple of overgrown toddlers in giant onesies. These were men dispatched from the nearby city of Crell Monfruage, for the mission of 'personal effects requisition' and 'waste management disposal'. Sure many would argue that these men were nothing more than garbage men, who were told to engage in government sanctioned looting. But that would be like arguing that Ketchup is Catsup.

Their suits were a modern marvel of in human spell casting, in that they allowed the men to walk into plague infested territory and not become victims of said plague. To put it roughly, they were medieval HAZMAT suits, and like their 21 century counterparts, were extremely uncomfortable to wear.

A group of mages saw that places with high humidity, like swamps and marshes, had incredibly fast infection rates. Since Red Death killed in a matter of hours, entire towns and cities that lived out in the boonies would be wiped out, in as little as a day. So they speculated that the disease was carried by moisture, or in this case, the airs natural humidity. To test this, they casted a simple Water Proofing spell on some cloth, and used it to make a suit.

They were right.

Unfortunetly, the cloth for waterproofing had to be thick. It also had to be porous enough, to allow breathing, and durable so it wouldn't tear easily. The only Suitable materiel that seemed to fit the bill was wool. So you know those oversized, itchy wool mittens your grandma made for you last Christmas? Imagine having to wear an entire body suit like that.

And as it turns out, moving around in giant man size pajamas (manjamas) made of wool, had the hilariously unforeseen side effect of generating enough static electricity to rival small lightning spells.

So basically, these two unfortunate bastards were forced to walk around, sweating their extremely itchy balls off, and drag rotting bodies off the street. All of this, while trying to avoid getting electrocuted to death from touching a doorknob.

Ladies and gentlemen, these men officially had the worst job in world.

And that is no joke, that particular record had been set nearly 65 million years ago…

Xx The Stone Age xX

Homo-Erectus stood outside of his dwelling, and squinted at the sun.

This was a far simpler age. Having only recently discovered fire, this specimen of early man served only to his base instincts. One of which was made known by the growling of his stomach. Hungry as he was, Homo-Erectus had to be patient. Fire made the food safe to eat, and in most cases, it also made it tastier. Even now he could smell it cooking, as his mate tended to the flames.

"_Fred!_"He heard his mate call to him "_Dino had an accident in the house again!_"

Homo-Erectus scowled. He did not want to go inside and clean the fist sized droppings of his pet dinosaur. However though, he knew that if he ever wanted a chance to eat, or have sex again, then he would have to go and do his mate's bidding. "Coming Wilma…"

Grumbling, he picked up a nearby tool, which he kept for scooping up after the dinosaur, and grumbled as he trekked to his simple shelter. As he walked, his scooping tool revealed itself to be a bird, and in a rare laps of discipline, craned its neck and spoke.

"You think _YOU_ have a crappy job…"

xXx

"…Me and the wife was talking, and we're thinking about going to the Chantry and applying for a last name." Earl said to Bob, as they each carried an end of a single corpse to a large pile that they were planning to burn later. Bob raised an eyebrow, though most of the effect was lost due to the wool mesh that covered his face.

"Why? Aren't last names like, 650 OTH per letter?"

"More like a thousand. But the wife thinks it would be nice to have an actual family name. You know, for when we finally decide to have kids." The two reached their destination and, at the count of three, tossed the body onto a larger pile of bodies. There was another in a nearby stable and they began to make a bee line.

"Eh… one name is good enough for me. Besides, little Katie's showing signs of being able to use magic…" Earl was stunned.

"Really? Bob, that's amazing, congratulations!" Bob didn't seem so enthusiastic. "Yea, what's gonna be amazing are the bills. You have any idea how much tuition costs for the Arcane University?"

"Aww it's not so bad, there are all sorts of grants you could apply for, and maybe she'll be good enough to get a full scholarship!" the two stepped into an unkempt, partially burnt down stable. Most of the stalls were occupied by the large carcases of horses, and lying near the back was the corpse of the stable owner, he died on a pile of hay.

"Maybe you're right." Bob snorted "We found out when she said 'goggy' and snap freezed the Henderson's dog. Caught him right when the little bastard was crapping on our lawn again. Can you imagine the look on Henderson's face, when I had to return a crystallized statue of a squatting dog?"

Earl stopped and barked out a laugh. "That is absolutely classic!" He looked down at the decrepit form "Head or feet?"

"I'll take his feet this time. It's creepy when they're staring up at you" Bob said, to which his friend nodded. They both reached down and lifted the corpse by each end. Precariously balancing his end, Earl freed one hand to scratch the top of his hood.

"You know, one of these days I'm gonna… HOLY SHIT!" he shrieked, then dropped his end. Bob, unable to keep his balance, dropped his feet and fell on his ass. "The Hel, man! Could you give me some warning next-"

"He blinked! He looked at me and blinked!" Earl said as he backed up into one of the stable doors.

"Dude relax, he's dead! He's not…gonna…oh that's not good."

They both stared in horror as the plague riddled, rotting husk of a man, was indeed blinking. In fact it was more than blinking now. His whole body twitched and writhed, his jaw began to gnash and finally it sat up. It looked directly at them and began to moan as it started to get itself to its feet.

"The stables cursed! Let's get the Hel out of here!"

The two made a mad dash to the exit, moving faster in woolen suits than anyone ever thought possible, and paused at the sight of the street.

There was movement everywhere, as bodies writhed and twitched on the ground. Some of them were already standing, their dull murky eyes staring lifelessly at nothing. Though bob couldn't see his friends face, he knew it was contorted in fear as the world's shittiest job, in a feat that seemed absolutely impossible, just got even shittier. Within seconds the walking dead looked straight at them and began to moan and to shamble after them.

"RUN!" they both took off at a sprint, but only made it two blocks before they realized how screwed they were. They were _Miles_ from the city gates, and even though they had been systematically piling and burning bodies off of the street, that still left everyone who had died indoors, and were now pouring out into the streets. That's not even counting all of the bodies on all of the other streets that they hadn't even gotten to yet.

They'd cleared and burned hundreds, but this was a full sized city they were dealing with. That left them out numbered, 2 to upwards of a million.

"Oh gods we're trapped… We need a weapon!" the two wooly garbage men frantically looked around. Sadly, anything useful was out of range as the dead moved in like a massive, slow motion wave.

They were ready to resign to their fate when Bob had an idea.

"Wait! We might not be completely unarmed!" much to the astonishment of Earl, Bob began to run in place, purposefully rubbing his wool encased limbs against himself the whole time. Earl began to understand as he felt his hair tingle, and watched as random pieces of paper began to gravitate and cling to his friend.

Since they were technically on the job, and he _was_ using company property, he charged forward screaming the battle cry "_WORKMAN'S COMP!_"

In a moment that would have made Nikola Tesla proud, a jolt of static, nearly a foot long and an inch thick, shot from his hand. There was a crack of thunder, and the walking undead creature was thrown 12 feet and landed in a smoking heap. Unfortunetly, his static attack worked both ways. Bob landed on his back, his smoldering finger still pointing, forever caught in an overcooked Fonzie 'aaaaaayyy' moment.

Seeing that he couldn't help his dead comrade, Earl used the distraction that his attack had caused, and darted through a hole in their ranks. This didn't get him very far, and he was forced to take a back alley.

And found himself in a dead-end.

He was still close enough to hear the undead tear into Bob, undoubtedly tearing off his wool safety suit like an odd Amish holiday.

It's odd to describe, but its moments like these that were the true judge of a man's character. Some would wet themselves and lay down to die, while others will scream for help in the hope that last minute salvation would come. Then, there men like Bob and Earl. They weren't soldiers, they were garbage men. Underpaid, underappreciated, and more often than not, spent most of their time having to _literally_ put up with people's crap.

It was moments like these that showed that some people, no matter their occupation, were made of sterner stuff.

Hundreds of shambling forms gathered around the entrance of the ally. Most were tripping over each other to have a shot at getting prey. Earl looked to the sky, and saw that he had a perfect view, between the buildings, of the setting sun as it put the hills in an orange yellow hue. He took a deep, and appreciative, last breath of live giving air, and steeled himself.

"Today is a good day to die…" he said with a sense of well-being. He saw what had happened to Bob and decided that if he was going to die, then he was going to drag as many of these things to hel with him as possible. So he started to run in place, creating as much friction as possible, the effect was immediate. Every single hair on his head and body began to tingle and stood up. Any dry piece of paper within a 4 foot radius gravitated to him, in what could only be described as 'lethal static cling'. Going a step further, he poured as much energy as he could into his actions. He was rewarded, by seeing small arcs of raw static energy roil off of him. Now was the time.

With a rebel yell, Earl charged forward. Pumping his arms, and scuffling his feet along the ground, he chugged forward like Tesla's death train personified.

He was going to go out, with a bang.

Xx 48 miles away, Fairgot Fort xX

A bored sniper leaned on his long bow and did his best imitation of being alert and attentive. If his superior officer caught him sleeping, then that was an instant court marshaling. That meant beheading.

He was literally fighting boredom to save his life.

He, along with about 30 other snipers, made up of 5 man teams from 6 different armies, sat between the battlements watching the road for any traffic. The road lead to the primary safe zones from the infection, so thus his job was extremely important. However, that didn't mean that it wasn't supremely boring. It didn't help the matter that some of the people here were his sworn enemies. The entire fort, having been hastily built, and was manned by a coalition force of troops from all six cities and kingdoms. Uniforms of all colors were seen within, and though things were… tense… to say the least, they all managed to not kill each other. This was the only time anyone would ever see them working together like this.

Red Death didn't care whose colors anybody wore. Almost a %20 of Midgard was now dead, and things were far too dire to worry about politics and territory disputes in a time like this. So for now they all decided to call a cease fire, and make sure that the plague didn't spread any farther than it already has. All it would take would be a single breach in their security, and they would have millions dead.

With the stakes so high, anyone caught not doing their duty was punished by their own. And so as to not appear weak to the others, they punished as harshly as possible.

So imagine watching the same spot on your floor, day in and day out, for 12 hours a day. It doesn't do anything exiting, it's the floor. Now imagine being told, that if you're caught not watching your floor, that you would be dishonorably discharged and summarily executed. Now let's throw in a bunch of douchebags that you don't even like, and force you to do it for months on end.

To put it bluntly, it was like an episode of The Real World, that never ended, and had 12 hour commercial breaks.

Woo hoo, extra hoo…

"Did anybody else hear that?" Everyone looked up, and sure enough, they heard it too. "It sounds like thunder… but I don't see any clouds" they all kind of shrugged.

"H-Hey, somebody's coming!" Everyone looked up to the road they were guarding. Sure enough somebody was indeed coming on horseback! They all instantly jumped to their stations, excitedly chomping at the bits to have a chance to do their actual intended jobs that they were actually posted here for.

Hey don't judge, this is the most exciting thing to happen since the tumbleweed that blew by 3 weeks ago.

Each of the six teams pulled out telescopes that varied in size and make; some of them were comically huge to being downright impractical. Sadly, this was also a side effect of having waaaay too much time on their hands, and bitter rivalries that date back centuries. It all started when Coriander's team received a package in the mail, addressed from their own home base, they contained looking glasses for their snipers at the fort. Nothing fancy, just little telescopes that they could use then fold up and put into their pockets.

However, not to be outdone, Villinore put in a requisition order to their superior officers. A few days later, they were sporting a nice 3 foot, high quality, telescope that sat comfortably on a tripod.

Can you see where this is going? Unfortunetly, one cannot underestimate the power of a pissing-contest, and how far people would be willing to go to not be out done.

For a while it seemed like Solde's team was going to win, since they were a portside town, they had access to surplus naval equipment. Those guys brought in a 6 foot, 40lbs, First Alert Warship Magnifier, that required two people to operate.

But alas, it was merchant town of Lassen that won in the end. They had a booming economy, and all of it was thanks to the thriving slave trade they maintained. (The slave business was kind of like the porn industry. It was essentially recession proof) So a combination of low morals, and money to burn, made them the winners of this little contest. They went ahead and contracted the Arcane University to _build_ them a telescope.

Two weeks later, they were the proud owners of an 11ft, experimental paraboloidal-mirror stargazer.

I feel I should point out, that all of this was for a lousy 2 mile stretch of road. On the bright side, this wasn't as bad as the 'pick your own team name' ordeal. That was a freaking nightmare. Things almost got bloody when the Artolian team tried to name themselves 'Team Better-At-Everyone-At-Everything-Including-Arts-and-Crafts'.

"Well? What do you guys see?" the others asked as Lassen's team made adjustments (this was done through a series of crankshafts and gears, as the entire set up was far too heavy to heft around). After a few seconds, the man pulled his head back and began to blink rapidly, like he was trying to shake what he saw out of his head.

"Well?" someone asked. The Lassen team sniper shrugged with a sheepish look. "I uh… didn't really see anything. I think this thing may be a bit …uh… overpowered." It wasn't really overpowered; so much as they were idiots. They were trying to use a piece of equipment, which was originally designed to observe the planet Jupiter, and use it to spot something a mere mile and a half off.

"…you're kidding me right? That big ass scope can't tell you anything?"

"nothing useful anyway..." He didn't want to mention that the only things he managed to learn, was that whoever it was, was wearing a '180 thread count' cotton shirt, and that he was in _serious_ need of a facial exfoliate.

The Coriander long bowmen pulled their looking glasses out of their pockets, and managed to not roll their eyes.

"I see him. He's coming in, full gallop… Villnore Military… he's lightly armored. I'd say advanced scout, or messenger…" Suddenly his face turned grim. "Jeez… His face has red splotches, horse too. He's infected!"

Suddenly it was all business.

Someone sounded a battle horn, and the entire fort was set into motion. Fort Fairgot also housed a battalion from the nations and independent cities. Most of everybody sent their best, and they properly equipped them. They were all armed with long reach weapons, ranging from lances, spears, and even halberds. In the event that they had to engage somebody that was infected, they wanted to maintain as much distance as possible. Each of them was even given enchanted hoods, though they weren't as effective as the full suits, to prevent infection.

Inside, commanders were barking orders, and the gates were sealed. Everybody worked together like a well oiled machine; everything was drilled into their heads from endless practice.

After what seemed like an eternity, the lone rider finally slowed his horse near the gates. It wasn't hard to see more than 2 dozen arrows pointed at him, from the battlements and murder holes near the entrance. The Villnore rider tried to dismount his horse but ended up falling instead.

Almost simultaneously, every archer fired as one, and the sound of 30 bowstrings was followed by the heavy thud of the horse falling dead. It seemed cruel, but the horse was diseased, and having it run around would be asking for an outbreak somewhere. Mercifully, almost every arrow stuck a vital spot, so it died quickly.

For 15 long minutes, he lay there. Coughing, and trying not to wretch his guts out, before the gate opened a crack. A Villnore Captain and 2 Heavy Vanguard, who flanked their superior as escort, emerged from the opening, all of them wearing hoods. They came to a stop no closer than 10 feet away.

The captain looked the man over, he wasn't a scout, nor was he a messenger. An orange patch on his arm told him that he had been stationed at one of the quarantine outposts. They're usually set up around partially infected cities.

Like fort Fairgot, everyone pitched in, and picked different cities to help that had been hit. Be it, evacuate civilians to safe zones, or quarantine the damned. Red Death can kill a man in about 12 hours, 24 at the most, and the soldier looked like he was entering the last stages before death.

The Captain's heart went out to the man.

"State your name, and rank, son." Thanking the gods for the hood, the man didn't have to see his reaction when he looked up. His face was a mess of broken blood vessels and he looked like he was suffering from hemorrhaging fever.

"Sir," he spoke slowly, though he stilled slurred slightly "Joseph, first class general infantry, I was stationed at the Merrihill quarantine outpost, under Major Ventrales, sir"

"Why aren't you at your post? Did something happen to Ventrales?" Joseph let his head droop back down, before answering.

"Everyone's dead sir…" The captain reeled at the news "The plague victims rushed our barricades, we were overrun in minutes."

"What do you mean, he was overrun? There were 150 men stationed at Merrihill. How were they overrun by a bunch of rioters?" Plus he knew Ventrales. He was a competent man, even if they organized, there was no way he would just 'be overrun'. Joseph no longer had the energy to sit up anymore. He rolled to his back and continued to speak.

"Not rioters, the dead ones. People who died got back up…" he went into another coughing fit, which lasted until his teeth were stained red. "…they just started pouring out of the sealed areas and started killing everyone."

The Villnore captain didn't know what to say. What could he say? What he was being told was not only impossible, it was downright insane.

"Why didn't he send for reinforcements? There are two other outposts, less than a day's ride away."

"All dead. Stopped at others on the way here. Springcrest, Fallhaven, Fort Ironhedge, all dead."

"My God…" The Captain almost felt throwing up right now. None of the other outposts belonged to Villnore, Artolia was in command of Springcrest, and Fallhaven had gone completely silent, so they only had a few dozen men from Coriander. Fort Ironhedge was an independent, but they were the only stopgap measure they had. And if what he was saying was true, then the dead were rising…

"Are they coming this way?"

"Yes"

* * *

**Hrist: I find your chapter to be... lacking.**

**SABAI (stand alone battle AI): I know! I've tried, and i've tried, but i couldnt scrub all of the suck out of this chapter. I'm finding that i have a really hard time, when it comes to trying to move the story along. Plus, i have yet to find that nice mixture of comedy and seriousness. But i'm trying.**

**Hrist: Meaningless excuses... And what of your next chapter? Will it actually be here within the decade?**

**SABAI: I-It'll be here! I've already started on it!  
**

**Arngrim: Aww cmon Hrist, cut the kid some slack. You know she's got a job and other responsibilities right?**

**Hrist: Well I should hope so. With writing skills like these, she most certainly would have starved long ago.**

**SABAI: I..wh... Thats it! Next chapter, you're gonna give a little lesson on physics.**

**Hrist: And what does that mean? ...And why do you have that look on your face? You shall answer me at once! Hey-  
**


	5. The Longest Day

_I love the smell of napalm in the morning. - Sgt. Kilgore_

"GAAHH-" _**WHHAACK!**_

Alright everybody, it's time to put on your thinking caps, because today you're going to be learning about physics, with Hrist Valkyrie! Doesn't that sound like fun?

No? …Well too bad, because you don't have a choice.

Sir Isaac Newton, born on the 4th of January, in 1643, was probably one of the single most influential people in the science community. One of the most memorable things he did was to lay down the three laws of motion, and thus the foundation for the most basic mechanics of our known universe. Though more importantly, and for the purposes of our story, the law that most applies is the second law of motion. That an object in motion, stays in motion, unless acted on by an outside force. And if such an outside force were to occur, then the event could be easily quantified in a simple equation of mass, times velocity, equals force. The entire concept is very exciting and almost fun to learn.

Unless, of course, you happen to be Hrist Valkyrie.

Though the entry of the anomaly had been a slow and almost elegant event, it was the exact opposite for the exit. Hrist remembered time crawling to a stop just before she could run her sword threw his sternum, and thus begin the soul purification process. Then the next thing she knew, she was heading straight for an Acer Maple Tree. (The trees with the little helicopter seeds)

At roughly 40-some-odd miles per hour.

Newton, that rat bastard, and his crappy laws had prevented the goddess from having any real chance of stopping, or even slowing down enough to make the spectacular impact suck any less. Hrist hit the tall, thick wooden object with enough force to blowout every seeder pod off every branch. Then fall 15 feet and land on solid earth, with what looked like an entire fleet of tiny yellow choppers descending after her. The sound probably echoed for miles.

Physics, yay!

Luckily for the Valkyrie, her divine armor worked spectacularly in absorbing the impact of head versus tree. Combine this with the extreme durability that the Aesir possessed, and Hrist actually walked away from the whole thing without any serious injury. But holy crap did she have a headache though.

"Guh… Where? Wuh?" she lumbered herself to her feat and picked her sword of the ground as fast as she could manage (which considering the impact, it was actually pretty damned fast) and held it in a defensive position. Whirling around on unsteady feet, she realized that she was alone. Safe for at least for the moment, the Valkyrie prioritized her actions.

The first was to drop to her knees and clutch her aching head, saying "oowwww".

The second course of action was to take stock of her surroundings. She noticed instantly that she was no longer in the vault, in fact she was outside, probably sometime mid morning. But instead of the lush green forest of the _Forest of Woe_, she was in some sort of… countryside? She was suddenly aware of the miasma of curious sounds, and odors that assailed her senses. There was a colorful mixture of sulfur, and burning oil fumes that made the air almost acrid to take into her lungs. The air was also seemingly alive with noises that she had, over the years, become very familiar with. She could hear what sounded like battle going on in the distance. The sounds of screaming, both male and female, seemed to carry in the wind. She looked around and spotted a few boarded up houses that dotted the hillside as well as a dirt road, not a few hundred feet from where she was at.

"Oh boy…"

A wave of nausea rippled through her body and brought the Battle Maiden to her knees. Her headache seemed to redouble its efforts and launched an assault on her head. The world dulled around her and color seemed to seep away as the Valkyrie fought for some sort of stability.

Something was wrong, very wrong. Hrist had felt something like before, and that scared the hel out of her, because this feeling usually only came when someone was using the Sovereign's Rite on her. But she didn't see any glyphs on the ground, nor did she feel the binds of her soul coming apart from the Valkyrie vessel. Only the withdrawal of energy as the Rite disconnected…

_Energy withdrawal_

And that was it. That's what was wrong; Hrist was no longer connected to the lifeline of the Tree of Yggdrasil.

She tried to stand, but another wave of nausea, not as strong as the first, but just as bad, forced the Valkyrie to the ground again. Thinking as fast as she could, she ditched her Divine armor and weapons, as they were burning what little bit of light she had left in her body. With only moments to spare she opened the INVENTORY, and dived into it. She had maybe seconds, before she would be locked out, and pulled out anything she could get her hands on. Random swords, armor, health potions, and various trinkets that were supposed to aid with magic resistance, all rained around the Valkyrie. As her armor burned away, she replaced it with simple civilian clothing. A simple skirt and blouse that offered no protection to her body, but required no energy to keep in existence, unlike her armor.

Better than being nude anyway. (Though certain mercenaries might disagree)

And just like that, the last iota of power was burned up and Hrist Valkyrie was alone. Without any of her abilities, her senses, or even the INVENTORY to aid her anymore, she rolled onto her back and closed her eyes. Fighting a seemingly futile battle for conscious, she noted that she could hear heavy footfalls approaching.

Today was going to be a long one.

XxX

"What news do you have of my daughter?" The king of Artolia asked. The men, who stood before him, were a composite of city defenders, mercenaries and his own Knight Captain. These small ragtag teams of mismatched soldiers were all that was left of his officers. Many of them had only been promoted only the previous day before as their predecessors' died in battle.

Artolia was under a grand scale invasion. Their walls had been breached only days before and had since done everything they could to maintain a counter offensive. In spite of having the home field advantage, and the valiant knights that occupied their kingdom, they were simply being overrun. They were facing an enemy with endless numbers, and absolutely no sense of loss, or when to surrender. Even now, they could be heard, clawing away at their defenses, with single minded intent. They were slow, they were stupid, and they lacked any sort of tactical sense, but they had something Artolia did not. They had _numbers_. Artolia was down to hundreds, while the invading armies were numbering in the _millions_.

"My lord, Princess Jelanda has been evacuated though I cannot be sure if she is safe…" He spoke regretfully. They simply could not spare any troops to evacuate her in the fashion that he wanted, so they had to pair her with a single soldier, a mercenary at that. Though he hated to admit it, it was probably for the best, as a small team would be able to sneak out undiscovered, compared to a literal small army. "But I must warn you that we are losing what windows of opportunity we have to get you safely out of the kingdom. They have breached the third wall, and will be upon us soon."

The king calmly walked over to the window. From their vantage they could see the courtyard and part of the city that dwelled outside of the castle walls. Fires burned out of control, as some civilians, who did not take heed to the orders to evacuate or fall back to the castle were run down and cornered in the streets. There was no law out there anymore, nor would there ever be again.

"No." he said looking directly at the invading armies, he could see them march right up the main street, only to be met by an ambush of his own men, most of them weren't even dressed in kingdom colors as they were merely reserve soldiers or farmers who took up a sword in defense of their home. With extreme success they slew the invaders, minimal losses, though it was all for nothing as thousands more followed right behind them.

They all fought so bravely…

"I will not abandon my kingdom. I have been here for the good and for ill… and I will be here if it has to come to an end." He looked to a man blonde haired man, dressed in civilian clothing; he was promoted to 'Head of the Artolian Civilian Defense Force' a mere 14 hours ago. "Is the Cocktail ready to go?" he asked. This brought a smile to his face.

The Cocktail, as it was so lovingly called, was by no means a delicious drink. Fire was still one of he best ways to fight off the hordes, but unfortunately, it was also very slow. If one wasn't careful, you could turn a bunch of walking dead, clawing at your defenses, into a bunch of _flaming _walking dead, clawing at your defenses. So somebody invented The Cocktail.

Technically it was a form of Napalm, though it bordered on Medieval Rocket Fuel. A fine mixture of Lamp Oil, Pitch, Tar, and an Oxidizer cooked up in alchemy lab, made thick glue like paste, which burned so crazily hot that it would reduce flesh to ash in seconds, bones to dust in a matter of minutes and will even melt through most light metals. There was no putting it out either, the Oxidizer guaranteed that. It would burn, _No matter what_, be it freezing cold temperatures, underwater, hell even in space should the need call for it. This insanely horrible recipe, pretty much ensured that somebody's day would be ruined if ever called upon.

"We're ready. We've filled every empty barrel, wine bottle and water tank with as much as we can. You give the order; things start to cook." The king nodded and gave a long last look at his city in its final death throws. Firebombing his own city, was no way to win this war, but what choice did he have? No offer of surrender was ever given from them. They would continue until they breach the castle walls and kill them all. The only option seemed to be a 'Scorched Earth Policy', and make their victory as hollow as possible.

"Do it."

X

A Braxton fort soldier rode his horse to the top of a hill, where several others waited for him. Though none of their armor or colors matched, they all bore the Braxton coat of arms, some painted on their shields, while others had had poorly stitched cloths hanging on their armor.

The rider stopped and looked back over his shoulder, not far over the tree line, a massive line of smoke could be seen moving off to the west.

Artolia was burning…

But that wasn't really the man's concern. His job was to track the evacuees and scout for any groups that might pose a threat to them, or their operation.

"Alright boys, we got us a group of refugee's, tryin to make their way east to Solde. I counted about 30 of em. None of them are soldiers or swordsmen, so if we move qu-"

_**WHACK!**_

Everyone jumped as one of the trees, just up the road, shook violently for a second then stilled. "What the hel was that?" Said their leader, a portly man named Billy.

Soldiers, was kind of an inaccurate term for these men, really they were nothing more than organized slavers riding together under an actual banner. There were 10 of them total; all of them dirty, slightly retarded, and completely interchangeable with each other. They were not responsible for the fall of Artolia, but they will sure as hell take advantage of it. They were one of a few teams dispatched to go raid the refugees and capture as many new slaves as possible. They proved to be easy pickings with no armies to defend them. Right now, they had a total of 19 new girls, (female's were far more valuable, for obvious reasons) most of them ranging in ages from 5-32, a few of them mothers of their prisoners, dubbed 'pretty enough' to still be useful. They kept them locked in a large cage, being pulled by a mule; things did not look good for them.

"Must have been the wind?" said one of the others. A fat man, dressed in miss matched armor, which was far too small for him, he looked like somebody was trying to bake bread inside of the tin man. They knew him as Toby the Tubby. Billy turned to him with a sneer. "Toby you numbskull, I've never heard the wind land with a thud before."

"Well I dunno Billy, I'm usually not to keen on investigating strange noises out in the woods… that's how my pappy died after all. We couldn't find his body for 3 days, till somebody spotted his red shirt."

They all stopped talking, when they heard the faint sound of someone coughing, which was almost lost in the wind. "There, you hear that, you bunch of pansies. Get your asses up there! There could be more refugees."

X

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Seriously, what the hel did he have here? Upon deciding to go checkout that loud boom, Billy really didn't know what he was going to find. However, the sight of a small black haired woman, retching her guts out, surrounded by a bunch of random items, fell under the 'unexpected' column.

He looked around and he could see that most of the stuff looked extremely valuable. There were the obvious, health potions, jeweled amulets and whatnot. However, what really caught his attention were the random weapons and armor lying about.

A lot of it… actually _all_ of it looked way better than the crap-tacular equipment that he and his men were carrying. But that still left a bunch of unanswered questions. Where did she come from? How was she carrying this stuff? Who the hel was she? Did she make that curiously human sized dent in the tree? It's like she fell out of the freakin sky.

He looked her over, she was obviously sick, but she didn't have the plague. And though she was sweaty, pale, and bent over with a hand on the tree as support, he could tell that she had a great body. He quickly decided that he was going to take her along with the other prisoners he was collecting.

"Hey honey, are you all right? You look a little pale there…" he said as an excuse to get closer. Behind him he heard others dismount their horses, he looked back and saw that three of his buddies were coming to help. Besides Toby, there was a guy named Lash. He was the prerequisite party guy, who spent too much time smoking dope and had hair that was way too long, for a man over thirty. And finally there was Ed. Sadist, all around womanizer, and enormous douchebag. He pretty much filled in the rest of the slots, that any team needed, to be considered bad guys.

The odd black haired woman answered him, though without lifting her head or turning around to face him.

"Go. Away" she said harshly, her voice ragged from all of the dry heaving she did. Billy unhooked a small handheld metallic rod with a wooden handle. Only about a half a foot long, it had a yellow lightning-stone infused into the metal. It was basically a powerful cattle prod, and a slavers best friend for incapacitating victims without having to kill them.

"Aww, don't be like that honey, I'm just trying to help. Maybe I could give you a ride into town?" If by helphe meant,_ capture and enslave_, and ride into town, _rape then_ _force into prostitution_, then yes; Billy intended to go for Good Samaritan of the year.

Hrist looked over her shoulder, and then sighed. This moron wasn't going to leave and she really didn't have the energy to try and come up with a clever way to get herself out of this. Once again, the universe seemed to be working against her, and dealt her a hand that made everything boil down to a single question. The question, that seemed to be the story of her life.

Is Hrist Valkyrie gonna have to stab a mu'fucker?

Hrist honestly didn't feel like stabbing anybody right now. She didn't feel good, and besides, she _really is_ trying to change her ways. Arngrim would be disappointed with her if she didn't at least _try_ to find a peaceful resolution to this. She didn't know how he did it, but he was one of the few people in existence who could make her feel bad about doing stuff.

So she gave some thought to her situation and she decided to simply go with the truth. It's not like he was trying all that hard to be subtle about being a slaver after all. Call it years of experience with infiltration, but it's hard to deny being a slaver _when they bring their rolling cage of trapped victims with them_.

So, with a great deal of effort, she straitened herself and turned to face him. Billy was slightly taken aback to find a very bloodshot, and very irritated set of violet eyes staring at him.

"My name is Hrist Valkyrie, I am a divine agent of the gods, and I am obviously a little ill at the moment, so I am not in a particularly destructive mood right now… _However_, I am having a very bad day. I currently have no idea where I am, I do not know how I got here, I cannot access my equipment, and my head is throbbing like i have a headache the size of Valhalla itself. So I feel it would be mutually beneficial, if you would kindly release your captives and be on your way. If you do this then I will not be forced to hurt anyone." She calmly explained, in the hopes that they may be reasonable.

Ah naivety, thy name is Hrist.

They laughed. They laughed long and hard, and with youthful abandon. She saw the pudgy one fall to the ground, his face going from bright red, to an almost purplish blue. There was a few distinctive 'thuds' and Hrist saw that some of the riders were literally laughing themselves off their horses. She scowled.

You see this? You see what she has to put up with? Does Lenneth or Silmeria ever have to put up with crap like this? How was it, that she always seemed to get the dumb ones, and then get disapproving fingers pointed at her for ridding the world of them?

Reining in her temper, she tapped an impatient foot and waited for them to stop laughing. Finally, after a full minute and a half, their leader stood up wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Woo! …Lady, you are rich!" he chuckled and unhooked his lightning rod "Come on now, you're getting in the kennel."

"If you do not cease this foolishness, I am going to get angry. I shall warn you now, that you would not like me when I'm ang – HNNNNNGGG" without warning Billy shoved the lighting rod at her chest. The second it made contact, her body went ridged. Thousands of volts dropped her to her knees and made every part of her already aching body, scream in pain. Hrist saw the small, stout metallic weapon, and assumed that it was a club of some sort. So she made the mistake of watching for some swinging motion. She never expected a stabbing motion.

After a few, very long, seconds, he pulled the rod away and the goddess fell limply to the ground. Satisfied that she was out, he leaned over her, and inspected her shapely form.

"Oh yea, we are gonna get a lot of mileage out of you…" he said, lecherously. He was getting ready to pick her up and carry her to the pen, when he saw her eyes flutter open. "Huh…?" He's used his lighting rod, hundreds of times, and never once has anyone ever gotten up this fast. Usually, they'd be out for hours, _not 30 seconds_. He reached out to stun her again, but his hand never made it. It, or rather his wrist, was suddenly in the clutches of an iron, vice like grip.

A grip that just kept getting tighter, and tighter…

Billy made, what was known to most of the male universe' as the 'O' face. However, this was not the good kind of 'O' face, this was the oh-god-my-bones-are-being-crushed face. (;o;) A notable difference, was that there would be no traditional high fiving his homies later. Billy dropped the rod, or more accurately his hand became incapable of holding it, and dropped to his knees as Hrist rose to her feet.

Right about the time that his wrist made a '_ker-pop_' noise, Billy looked to his friends, and saw they were speechless. "G-G-GET HER OFF ME! GET HER OF ME!" He shrilly screamed, then her other hand grabbed the front of his armor, just under his chin, and pulled his face just inches from hers.

It was at this moment that Billy made two observations. One: she smelled really good, sort of like lilacs. Two: she was _piiiiiiiiiiiiisssed_.

"Congratulations" she spoke darkly "You have just ruined my sunny disposition…" then she kneed him in the crotch so hard, that he actually obtained lift off, of an impressive 3 feet, before he landed in heap on the ground.

"...avenge me..." he croaked out in a surprisingly high pitched voice, effectively neutered, since she kneed his balls with the force, rage, and fury, of an angry god.

Like the fight scene of a low budget horror movie, the overgrown dope head stepped up to the plate first, and subsequently was probably gonna be the first to die. He was sporting a shortsword, which he held more like a stick than an actual blade, and tried to throw the dark maiden off by exercising some fancy footwork. Little did the dark maiden know, he used to be a performer.

To his credit, it actually kind of worked.

I mean honestly, what do you do when you see a man, who is undoubtedly stoned out of his mind, River Dance at you with a sword.

As Hrist stared at his feet, wondering what had brought her to this low point in life, when Lash lunged at her with his blade. Without the tree of Yggdrasil, she was technically powerless. She couldn't fly, she didn't have any of her divine abilities, nor could she call for any Einherjar to aid her.

Unfortunately, as Lash was about to find out, was that she could still fight like a Valkyrie, and the Aesir, by nature, were a lot stronger than normal humans.

Hrist casually sidestepped his attack to the right, while simultaneously grabbing his sword arm with her left hand and viciously backhanded him with her right. The stoner reeled back, and Hrist pressed her assault by ripping his sword out of his hand, and kicking his feet out from under him. Effectively knocking his fancy dancin ass on the ground, and thus, putting an end to the short lived career of... Interpretive Sword fighting?

Hrist paused to take a breath, moving like that had made her nauseous, and without looking, raised a hand and caught a throwing ax that had come whistling at her. This was soon followed by a collective gasp, and some cheering from the girls in the pen.

The battle maiden looked up and saw that everyone was staring at her in shock.

"Now, as I was sa-"

"Screw you, bitch! You think we're gonna run from some uppity _woman_," Ed spat acidly "who happens to have a few skills, other than lying on her back! There's no way you can take us... OH SHIT!" Ed backpedaled, and luckily, tripped on his own two feet, just as Lash's sword came whizzing by like a mini helicopter blade of death, and struck the tree behind him with a _**THUNK**_. He looked behind himself, and his eyes bulged when saw that the short sword had buried itself almost a foot deep into the trunk. He looked back over at the small dark haired woman with a "uhh..."

"Are you quite through! Or must I find a larger blade to throw at you, to make my point?" Hrist said, but was absolutely baffled however, when the rest of the slavers began to murmur amongst themselves.

"_Did you hear that pun? That lady's a total baddass..."_

"_I don't think we can beat her now..."_

"_Well she most certainly has my respect..."_

Hrist's acute hearing was able to pick up their hushed whispers, though she honestly wished that she couldn't. This pretty much validated Arngrim's suggestions about saying ridiculous things in the middle of combat. For the first time, she thanked her luck that he was not here at the moment, for he would never let her hear the end of this.

But still...

If she could end this, without having to kill any of the mortals, then perhaps this was worth giving a shot...

She waved the throwing ax menacingly "Now I hope you are all _sharp_ enough, not to _ax_ any more questions..." she said, and gauged their reactions. They all began to murmur amongst themselves again.

"_Never mind, now she's just trying too hard..."_

"_Whew! I can feel my resolve coming back, even as we speak..."_

"_And to think, I almost respected her..."_

Hrist's right eye began to twitch.

"_**That is it! **_I have had it up to here" she raised her hand to about eye level "with you degenerates! I have tried, and tried, to show some patients with you morons. But _no_, of all the people in the world, I get stuck with a bunch of unbathed, two-bit, idiotic slavers, who by the way, are about to die a violent death! So I swear on everything that is holy in Asgard that if you do not release your prisoners and turn around, **RIGHT NOW**, and get out of my face. Then so help me I'll turn my foot sideways and shove it so far up your…"

Xx meanwhile in the burning city of Artolia xX

Arngrim leaned back against a brick wall, and used a small makeup mirror to peak around the corner unnoticed. Using this simple technique, he was able to get a tactical assessment of their position, the enemies position and what the odds of his survival were should he try to make a push towards the east gate where freedom waited.

After nearly two centuries of serving, consulting, or observing almost every kind of battle imaginable, Arngrim decided that their situation ranged somewhere between 'screwed' and 'damned screwed'. All he could do was watch the towns' defenders rush headlong into them, and subsequently be swallowed whole by the undead's shear numbers. The Kingdom of Artolia was gone, and it seemed like the only ones who didn't know it were the Artolians themselves. But Arngrim had to give em credit though; they sure as hell made them pay for every friggen inch of land.

"There is mud on my dress!" a shrill and petulant voice, pulled Arngrim out of his thoughts like a man being awoken from slumber with a cold bucket of water. The grating sound made the warrior whirl around to the source, a blonde curly haired girl of only 17, known to many as Princess Jelanda. "What did I tell you about using our _stealth_ voices?" he whispered out angrily.

"Why are we even out here for? We should be back at the castle with my father." She huffed, having either unwittingly missed the large man's call for lowered voices or bravely ignoring it.

"Listen kid, Artolia is screwed. I'm here to get you to safety, but that's not gonna happen if you announce our position _to every flesh-eating-monster that roaming the gods damned city!_" He hissed out. There were numerous occasions when his cover was nearly blown for making too much noise, and as he would vehemently point out, none of them were his fault.

"I don't see the point. My father's men will hold the castle, which is where we should be." Jelanda said, completely unperturbed by the mercenary's glare. Arngrim ran a frustrated hand over his face as he tried to call upon the god of patience, if there was one. "Alright kid, here's the way it works, I get paid to do a job, I complete the job, to be honest it doesn't matter if you're conscious or not." Princess Jelanda took a step back in shock, clearly not ready for his harsh tone. "How dare you… My father WILL HAVE YOU EXECUTED!" she screamed shrilly. Arngrim tried to hush her, but it was too late. He could already hear the slow moan and shuffled steps of the dead advancing upon their position. "son of a…" Arngrim said as he was getting ready to throw her over his shoulder and make a break for it.

TCK-K-K-K-K-K-K

He recognized the sound of launching catapults the second he heard it. Not even bothering with stealth, gods knew that that was out of the question with Jelanda around; he stepped out from his cover and, to his horror, he saw the barrels and various other containers get launched into the sky.

"Aww crap!" He frantically looked around and saw a door that he was pretty sure would lead Artolia's sewer system. The door was made out of heavy wood, and was undoubtedly locked, but maybe if he kicked it hard enough, then hopefully he could break the lock.

Hopefully...

Scooping up Jelanda, like an oversized football, he took off at a dead sprint for the door. Jelanda's oversized frilly dress began to ride up as it caught the breeze, like a parachute. "Put me down you pervert!" Arngrim dutifully ignored her insults, as well as the occasional kick to the head, and the fists that pounded at his back.

xX outside the dying kingdom of Artolia Xx

Millions of slow moving, unorganized, and generally uncoordinated Hollowmen marched slowly through the main entrance that made up the once friendly gate to Artolia. Of all of them though, stood out a single figure who moved amongst them uninhibited. A she, in dark armor and a cloak that had been tailored specifically to her body, seemed to be able to part the sea of undead by just simply walking through them. Unlike the others, she was very much alive and moved with an aura of malevolence. Her face and her hair was obstructed by the hood, but her dissatisfaction at the battle before her was very evident. It was always fun to watch a kingdom crumble under the weight of the Hollowmen, almost to the point of betting to see how long they could hold out, before they surrendered, but Artolia was proving to be a real pain. The small size of their land, and the low population count actually worked to their disadvantage this time, as it allowed them to have a more localized response in their warnings. And now they were holed up tight within their little castle, with no signs of giving up.

She grabbed one of the decrepit forms, and vehemently brought it face to face with herself. One of the advantages of using the undead was that, there was no hierarchy within their ranks, and talking to one was the same as talking to them all. "Report! Have we breached their last walls yet?" she asked impatiently. The rotten body made no move to resist or nor even open its mouth to try and talk as it responded, using a sort of thought to thought process to convey its words.

'_Theyyy rreessisst' _came the slow reply. Angrily she tossed the Hollowman on the ground and clenched an angry fist at her side. Losses were always to be expected when using the Hollowmen to wage war. They had no real ability to think, or even try to employ any type of real tactics in their fighting style. Commands to them were literally nothing more than 'swarm this area' or 'swarm that area'. Their only virtue was that they had billions at their disposal.

Still, if taking a kingdom this small cost too many of their assets, then her superiors' would be displeased. Consequences for displeasing them were never…forgiving. The sound of catapults brought her attention to the falling kingdom, and saw that they were launching barrels, crates of small glass bottles, and just about anything that looked like that could hold liquid. All of them had rags, lit on fire, stuffed seemingly wherever they could fit them.

Her first thought was that they were getting desperate, launching whatever they could over the walls to forestall their efforts to take their city. However that thought died a horrible death the second the containers hit the ground…

They didn't really explode, as they weren't really bombs per se, everything just kind of went up in an angry FWOOMP, and was engulfed in a wall of bluish white flames. They burned so hot, so bright, that the residential parts of the doomed kingdom, for all intents and purposes, became the surface of the sun. Anything there, dead or alive, was just simply gone, vaporized in the flames or quickly being immolated from just being too close to them. The woman in dark leathers, and cloak, watched in rage as her troops, and most importantly the city, was reduced to ash in a matter of seconds, by whatever the hell was in those barrels. "they're burning down the city!" she cried, though nobody alive was around to hear her. She growled, and thrust out an arm at the city. If they wanted a scorched earth policy, then she'd give them a scorched earth.

"_I call upon the heavens that hear my command. Bring forth your fury, and smite all those who who stand before me..." _She chanted, in a voice that crackled with power. _"CELESTIAL STAR!"_

XXxXX

"…and once I have your intestines, I shall use them to hang you from this tree, and rip out _his spine" _Hrist pointed an angry finger at one of the other slavers. He jumped and pointed to himself with a 'who me?' "and use it to beat you like a piñata _**until I get some candy to fall out of you!**_" she finally stopped and continued to breath heavily.

Nobody. Said. A word.

Half of the captive girls in the slaver's pen were crying, while the other half had their hands over their ears and their eyes screwed shut; trying to retain what little innocence they had left. All of the slavers had various degrees of shock and horror written all over their faces. With the exception of one guy, who had turned green and fainted 25 minutes into her angry tirade, he was still unconscious on the floor.

And they weren't the only ones…

Ever flower in a 30 ft radius had seemingly 'un-bloomed', as well a couple of butterflies that reverted back to their cocoon state.

_Mid flight_

All of the Braxton men looked to each other, trying to see if they all agreed that the small black haired woman in front of them, may in fact be the devil.

"…Uh, I don't know guys. I don't exactly know what or where my Gall Bladder is, but I'm pretty sure I don't want it pulled out through my nose…"

"Pfft, you're getting off easy! She said she was gonna rip out my Liver and jam it down my throat… just so she can rip it out again!"

"RETREAT!" they all took off down the road. Hrist lowered her throwing ax and carried herself to the slaver's pen, intent on freeing the others, when she noticed the driver was still on it. The two made eye contact and she knew exactly what he was thinking. "…Don't you dare…" she warned with the darkest glare she could muster.

Dare he did however, because with a crack of his whip he took off down the road as fast as he could. Completely intent on leaving her in the dust, he executed near perfect evasive driving. The various desperate cries of 'Help us, please!' or 'Don't let him take us!' from the captive girls were barely heard over the sound of beating hooves.

Hrist rolled her eyes and sighed. Sometimes, she wondered how these mortals managed to live as long as they did, and not have their numbers thinned down by the rules of Darwinism. Seriously, how the Hel did they survive, day to day, without falling victim to natural predators, shallow puddles, or hazardous rakes lying about on the ground. For the man zigzagging down the dirt road was forgetting one teeny tiny flaw about his dramatic escape.

His entire setup was being pulled, _by single a_ _freakin mule_.

Blazing down the road, at a little over half the speed of smell, he was just about to execute an evasive maneuver known as 'The Crazy Ivan', when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked over and, to his horror, saw that the scary lady had not only caught up to him, but was now pacing him at casual walking speed.

"I shall give you a 10 second head start before throw this." she warned, waving the throwing ax in front of his face "So if I may be so bold, I would suggest that you attempt your escape in a method that does not move at 4 miles per hour."

"Oh Gods!" He jumped off the mule, and was about to take off sprinting, when Hrist grabbed him by the front of his shirt. "Keys" she demanded darkly, and he shakily gave them to her, and she released him.

As she rounded the cage, she noticed that the captives were quietly staring at her in fear. She ignored this and stuck the cell key into the lock and turned it. Though she heard the click of the lock, she continued to turn until the key snapped off with a 'tink!', effectively ruining it from being able to lock again. Once the door was open she shambled herself up and into the cage, everyone gave her a wide berth.

"Does anyone know how to use that?" she asked wearily, and pointed to the mule. One young woman, who was most likely a farmer, raised a timid hand.

"Is there a safe place we may head to?"

"The Paladins are said to have set up a meeting point, north of here..." A mother said as she hugged her two daughters close. Hrist nodded, having no idea who they were. She flopped down on top of a dirty blanket that had been placed on the bottom of the pen, for the captives to lie on and made herself comfortable. It smelled, and was more than likely infested with who knows what, but she didn't care. She was bone weary, and they could use the rolling slave pen as transportation to wherever the hel they were going.

A rumble in the distance made her lift her head, and she saw the flames from the battle, wherever it was at, suddenly flare to the point that it almost looked like an artificial sunset. Soon afterwords, specks of light began to twinkle in the sky, and the clouds parted.

_I know that spell._ She thought. _That's Celestial Star._

Suddenly, huge rays of light, began to streak downwards, and pummeled the flaming wreck of the city. It sounded like the apocalypse as beam after beam, slammed into the castle. Reducing it to nothing but rubble.

The world vanished behind two slits of light, as the Valkyrie didn't have enough energy to keep her eyes open.

_'This has been a long day'_ was the last thought she had before the darkness claimed her.

* * *

**Well, what do you guys think about the little fight? Meh, eh, or ugh?I tried to make it a bit less vague, and more personal, but i think i overdid it on the comedy, and turned the whole thing silly. I'm totally up for suggestions and i most certainly could use the feedback. **

**Side note: i have no idea what noise a catapult makes, but i have played a _lot _of Age of Empires, so i'm going to assume that they're accurate.  
**

**As a bonus, a small part of the next chapter will be voiced by Morgan Freeman! Why? Because he's awesome! Seriously, i would pay good money to hear him read the phone book.**

**You know what to do.**

**V  
**


	6. The Longest Night

_I've been giving, but just ain't getting, I've been walking that there line. So I think I'll keep on walking, with my head held high - Kid Rock_

"_We're not doing this." _

_The simple statement was enough to have the desired effect. Leone stopped in her tracks and turned to face her companion. Like so many times before, he was mesmerized by the emotionless look she gave him. It was absolutely insane that this…thing…that stood before him was the same kind hearted woman he'd traveled with._

"_I sincerely hope that I misheard you just now." She says. Her voice, her eyes, her posture, even the air around her, issues the unspoken challenge to try and defy her. _

_They stand just outside of Dipan, probably sometime before noon, judging by the position of the sun. Knights of Dipan's royal guard patrol the battlements that overlook the city. The weather is cool, a pleasant relief to the heat that had been pestering the citizens for the past month. Large, popcorn shaped clouds, hang lazily in the horizon. The dark shade and the direction of the wind have people sealing the wooden shutters on their houses, and bringing in their hanging laundry. Everyone prepares for the storm that is sure to come. _

_None of them realize that it was already here. And that it was going to be far worse than they could ever imagine. _

"_You heard me" Arngrim challenges right back "I may be just some hired blade, but you're out of your damned mind if you think I'm gonna take part in a massacre." He warns; making no effort to hide the accusatory undertone of his voice. _

_It seemed impossible, but Leone… no, **Hrist Valkyrie** remained completely stoic, yet entirely imposing at the same time. Arngrim was too angry to care though. Didn't she realize that these people were just doing their jobs. These weren't just soldiers. They were fathers, friends, and husbands, some of them probably grandfathers. The thought of Hrist just killing them because they were at the wrong place wrong time…_

"_They have been warned time, and time again. Those that ignore Odin's-"_

"_Screw Odin!" Arngrim cuts her off "At this point, I'd wanna leave too! All of this crap, cause these people wanna go someplace where they don't have to take his bullshit." The mercenary levels his own gaze to meet hers'._

"_But you know what? He at least has a reason. What the hel is yours? You really gonna to do this because he tells you to? What the hel ever happened to all the 'honor' I always hear about, when they tell stories about you Valkyries? As far as I can tell, you're no better than half the monsters I deal with out here. If you think that there's any honor in doing what he tells you, then you're nuts lady."_

_That did it. Hrist's eyes are suddenly a luminescent Gold. She marches up to him, quickly closing the distance between her and the mercenary. Arngrim's sword stays on his back, but this was not to be mistaken for unpreparedness. If she attacks him, then he will respond in kind. _

_But to his surprise, she doesn't. He suddenly finds himself face to face with her. Almost a head shorter than him, she somehow manages to stare him down. _

"_Honor? Is that what you think this is about? They are on the cusp of unlocking the secrets to __**Creationism**__! Have you any idea how dangerous that kind of magic is, in the wrong hands?" she points an angry finger at the castle behind her. "Do you realize the implications of what they are about do? They are __**going to create another world!**_

_Do you honestly believe that there will be no consequences to their actions? That everything will be fine, if there are suddenly 10 worlds, instead of 9? __**They risk throwing the entire tree off balance**__!" she screams in his face. And for the first time, the scale of what was going on finally hits him. _

"_I…" he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He wants to argue. He needs to say the right thing to prevent a tragedy from ever having to take place. Magic, to Arngrim, was just that; Magic. Something that he didn't really understand, nor did he really care to learn. Hel, half of whatever insane plot, which was going on, was still lost on the man. As far as he knew, everything was black and white. Dipan wants to escape the tyranny of the gods. The gods, being all tyrannical, didn't want them to escape. _

_It never really occurred to him that Dipan may ever actually be in the wrong… _

_Hrist continues, in the same vicious tone._

"_So you know what? You win. I deem myself morally incapable of leading this mission. I hereby place you in command." She says in a manner that sounds frighteningly sincere. The mercenary finds that he still can't find his own voice._

"_So what are your orders 'sir'? Keep in mind that Odin will see Midgard burn if this situation is not resolved by the end of the day. So the lives of __**6 billion people**__ rest on your next decision! Should they succeed, maybe nothing will happen. Maybe EVERYTHING will happen. If it turns out to be the worst case scenario, then the loss of life will be astronomical. The Vanir, the Elves, the Asier, are but a few of the races that may have their worlds collapse in on themselves, and never even know why." There's a slight thud as Arngrim backs into one of the walls of a local shops. He hadn't even realized that he'd been moving at all…_

"_So I would Love to hear your plan of action 'Commander', for I do not feel that they shall simply stop because we ask them to." What followed was a long moment of silence. Arngrim searched himself for an answer, something, _anything,_ which could remotely even come close to being the right answer. But he had nothing. Hrist spoke again, quieter, but with no less anger in her voice._

"_So, you have **nothing**. You, and so many others like you, presume to judge me when none of you are any better. All of you sit behind the veils of your blinded morals, when none of you have ever had to make a __**real**__ decision in your lives." Arngrim couldn't look her in the eye. Was this what it was like to be Hrist Valkyrie? Forever stuck between the rock and the hard place? Being a mercenary, he knew better than anyone, the world was full of grey areas. Nothing important was ever black and white. He suddenly felt stupid, for thinking that this was. "So this ends now…" she declares._

_Suddenly, a set of small, yet powerful set of hands grabbed Arngrim by the chest plate of his armor, and he is shoved back against the wall. He found himself pinned with a Valkyries Sword up to his neck. What shocked him though were not her actions, but her face. The anger, which had dripped from her voice, was nowhere to be seen on her features. Instead, she looked tired, maybe even a little trapped._

"_They already know many of the Divine Sacraments. Some, like the Sovereigns Rite, can simply unmake me, while there are others that can force my loyalty. __**All of which**__, I am incapable of defending myself from." Hrist lowers her voice, just barely above a whisper "So you wish to believe that I want to earn the hatred of my own sister? Fine! You think I want to see a city burn, for some cheap praise from Odin? Good! But know this mortal; I have made my decision, and I intend to see it through. I know what I fight for, and there is too much at stake. So I have to know right now; can I trust you with my life?" _

_With that single question, there was an impossibly long moment when nothing was said. Hrist waited with the patience of an immortal as Arngrim leaned his head back and closed his eyes._

"…_yea, I'll watch your back." He finally says quietly. The Goddess lowers her weapon and unsummons it. She is, once again, nothing more than little Leone, and begins to walk wordlessly down the path of a doomed city. _

_The end of Dipan's last good day._

"_Leone… Hrist," unsure of which name to call her, he stumbles on his words "listen… I-"_

"_We are done with this. I care not, what you have to say." She walks a few more feet then she stops. She turns her head, just enough for him to see her eyes. They're golden, a small sign of the terrible destructive power, which roils beneath her innocent looking form. "At the end of the day, all that really matters are the results… That is what I am good at: Results."_

XxxXxxX

It was like waking up with an epiphany. A base lower instinct that told him he needed to be somewhere, much like how birds knew that they needed to migrate south for the winter. The small fragment of the Valkyrie's soul, which Arngrim's soul used as an anchor point, suddenly just became active.

The Einherjar often referred to it as the Valkyrie's call, the sudden knowledge that their Valkyrie was now awake, and that they needed to report for duty.

So in short, it's kind of like being paged by a very complicated and very mystical beeper.

"_A…rim…eeling…ght?"_

Pushing aside the odd feeling (of what it must feel like to be a hoe being paged by an all-powerful pimp), he decided to address urgent issue number two.

The unending, and excruciating pain that is his existence.

And no, this wasn't going all emo, this was the 'ouch my bones are broken' kind of pain. Seriously, was there anything that didn't feel broken?

The battered mercenary opened his eyes, and squinted at a bright source of light. It went away, and was soon replaced by a, unmistakable silhouette of a young female head. Unsure of anything at the moment, Arngrim decided that it was time to perform the prerequisite post severe-head-trauma checklist. The mercenary sat up and turned to the woman "Excuse me miss, but could you kindly tell me who you are? And if it's not too much trouble, I would also like to know where I'm at, how I got here, what the nature of my injuries is, and if the offending party that caused said injuries are still around."

At least that how it went in his head anyway. In reality, he rolled so that he was face down on the ground and said "muuuuughh"

Seconds later, he felt a cooling sensation course through his body, as well as a sudden sense of well being. The world became a little sharper and this time he was able to sit up for real. He looked up in time to see the young woman retract her hands, and sit back with an exhausted look on her face. Her face and the room was cast in an eerie reddish yellow hue. He looked down and saw that the light was coming from the tip of a stick.

No… a wand. He realized that the cooling sensation he felt had been a healing spell.

"thanks…" he said, and began to give his shoulders a quick roll, to test if they were working. "where are we?" He looked around. From what he could see, the floor, the walls, and even the low hanging ceiling was made of stone. He figured he was in some kind of… tomb?

"Because of your ill laid plans, we're in the sewers, where you dragged us you **idiot**."

Ah. Arngrim had been so wrapped up in his physical pain that he had forgotten that he could still have his feelings hurt.

Awesome.

"…Jelanda?" The mercenary said as everything was finally coming back to him. He remembered the catapults launching their massive firebombs, and everything burning. Then… everything started exploding, almost like when a mage used one of the really big spells like Meteor Swarm or something. He barely made it to the door when everything started going up. "Are you alright?" he asked, and looked at the irritated young woman in front of him. She was covered in dirt, but otherwise looked like she was in good health.

"NO! I scratched my knee, and I smell like that pile of stinky rags I landed on, when we were flying through the air!"

Arngrim winced, suddenly remembering how loud and shrill she could be when upset about something, and looked over to where she had pointed to. There was a large pile of dirty uniforms that was probably for whoever worked down here.

"huh, is that where we landed? I guess we got lucky." he said as he shambled to his feet. The Princess raised an eyebrow "We? You bounced off that wall, and landed on the ground. I'm the only one who smells like a pile of stinky rags."

Arngrim nodded. Bouncing off of an unforgiving stone wall, like a racquetball capable of feeling pain, did sound about right.

"I demand to know how you plan to get us out of here." She huffed. Her amazingly loud voice reverberated off the stone walls, so it was like she was complaining to him in surround sound.

Arngrim had learned years ago that most temples/caves/sewers, that were complicated enough to have running water, could easily lead you out if you followed the stream.

Of course there were always exceptions, but he felt that he could hold the rule true for this case.

"The water…" he grunted, as he steadied himself on his feet. "The water has to drain out somewhere, right? If we follow the water, then that'll lead us out." He said. Arngrim's body still felt a little stiff, but was feeling better by the second. The man was no authority on magic, but he knew good healing spells when he felt them.

When you fight monsters, gods, or take part in the sport of teasing Hrist (AKA poking the bear), then you tended to get hurt.

A lot.

This caused the man to reevaluate her. He knew enough mages to know that learning magic was hard. Usually the most anyone learns is the art of destructive magic. Anybody could blow something up with magic. Hell, it's like the first thing you learn to do.

Learning to put something back together though, that took skill.

With Arngrim's opinion of the young woman raising a few notches, he took an experimental step into the water, and found it to be only about a food deep or so. They could easily wade through the shallow water. It didn't change the fact that it was sewer water, but dirty socks were the least of their problems.

"C'mon Princess" Arngrim extended a hand to her "I'll get you out of this." However, Jelanda looked horrified.

"Do you have any idea how much my shoes are worth?"

"Are they worth your life?" Arngrim asked coolly. Arngrim could still hear the roar of the fires burning away at the surface. At this point it would be a miracle if none of the sewers had collapsed in the explosions, but if it hadn't, and then they needed to hurry before it actually does.

"I refuse to go wallowing around in the filth, like some sort of _poor_ person. I demand that you find another way!" she ordered. If the man was offended by her vaguely elitist remarks, then he didn't show it.

"I'll carry you then. So that way you don't have to get your shoes all dirty." He said reasonably "sound good to you?"

Jelanda was pleasantly surprised. "…Well it's about time" she said, and allowed her guardian to lift her. "I was wondering when you would finally come to your se- HEY!"

Arngrim walked a total of 4 feet before dropping her like a stone into the shallow water. In an instant her shoes, her hair, and her exuberant dress she was wearing, were soaked. This coupled with her small frame, gave her the look of an angry wet cat. She sputtered for a second before she pointed an accusatory finger at him.

"You did that on purpose!" the accused only shrugged, looking irritatingly aloof.

"Sorry, my grip must have slipped." He apologized though he didn't look, or sound, sorry at all. "But hey, since you're already wet, we can move faster if we're both on our feet. So what do you say, you wanna get out of here?"

Princess Jelanda seethed, and then finally accepted his hand. "Fine, but when we get out of here, I'm going to have you tried and hanged."

Arngrim felt a small pang of sympathy for her. Didn't she realize that Artolia was gone now? She was going to have to accept it sooner or later.

And it was going to hit her hard.

XxxXxxX

Hidden amongst the tall brush, and weeds, that littered The Great Plains of the east, a 17 year old girl watched the local wild life, making careful observations. As young as she looked, she had wisdom far beyond her years. In all technicality, she should look like a 58 year old woman, and in all reality was far older than that. When her lot in life had come to an end, she was to have moved to the next life and begin the cycle all over again. However, this was not to be as she was visited by another young woman.

This young woman, was the soul of an old god, known to many as Silmeria Valkyrie.

Though Phyress was a princess for the kingdom of Dipan, she had led a long, and lucrative Military career. At the tender age of 5, she picked up a bow one day and found that she had a talent to direct an arrow as though it was a mere extension of her own body.

She was a natural choice for her current mission of scout and recon. She was smart, patient, and had the experience of almost 5 centuries of field work under her belt. Being that she was a general at one point, she could not only observe, but also make educated guesses on what enemy forces were likely planning, based on their size, equipment and weather patterns of the land.

Like all good scouts, she did not operate alone. Scouting, on its own, was perhaps one of the most dangerous assignments that could be given in the military. There was no backup if things went to hel. Her job, her life, and possibly intelligence that affected the fate of thousands of lives depended on her, and her team's ability to remain undetected. It required absolute trust in the people who comprised such teams.

Which is why she had, in theory, the single worst team in existence.

The first on her team was Celes, another former general and heiress to the throne of Dipan, her sister was a natural choice to accompany her. Admittedly, there were moments between the women that were…intense… to say the least. Together they managed to effectively lead the Einherjar as a team. Phyress led most of the operations, while Celes was in charge of the overhead and logistics of the Einherjar. Though they respected each other's roles', they often found themselves butting head more often than not. Many dismissed this as harmless sibling rivalry.

However, some would argue that it could be due to the fact that Phyress had fatally wounded Celes in combat. A wound, that dragged out her death over the course of 2 years. This was of course, after Celes managed to lop off her sister's arm in the process. Throw a little alcohol into the mix, and these two will effectively put the 'fun' back into dysfunctional family unit. They could at least proudly say that they've had at least 2 consecutive Thanksgiving dinners that didn't end in a hostage situation.

Next up was Lawfer, a spear wielding light warrior, he belonged Lenneth, and was one of the last Einherjar to join the group before everything that went down at Valhalla. He was dubbed the 'greenest' of all of the Einherjar as he still had an optimistic view on life. To his dismay, many regarded him sympathetically, like he had some sort of illness or major handicap, and promised that his upbeat personality would soon be crushed into the endless duty and burden of being an Einherjar soon enough.

And finally there were the three that she trusted the least. They needed no introduction, as they were Rod, Mylan, and Cromm.

Normally, aside from Roderick, Mages and Vikings made terrible scouts. Not that she had any complaints about their performance; quite the opposite actually. They demonstrated skill in the wilds that was almost ….curious. She would however say that they were odd.

Very, very odd.

Phyress, crouched next to her sister as she peered through a looking glass, and took note of a pack of wolves that feasted upon a fresh kill. What it was, was impossible to tell as it was picked to the bones already. However, she didn't concern herself with that; the real issue was the predators' size. Each one of the wolves were the size of a pony, and were sporting a wicked set of teeth as they gnawed at the bones, or lounged about with full bellies.

"Wargs…" was all she said, and Celeste silently cursed. Wargs were the aftermath of corrupted wolves, and were a death sentence to unwary travelers. It was also a sign that the corruption was spreading to this area.

"How many?" the Warrior queen asked. She didn't have a looking glass, so was dependent of Phyress for information. She didn't mind though, like most archers of her caliber, her sister had perfect eyesight and was also one of the most capable scouts on the planet. "I count 8 of them… Two of them are probably alpha's. We're outnumbered, but we could definitely take them." She said, and her eternally 17 year old face looked over. Celes shook her head.

"Eight on six are not favorable odds… we risk losses. We'll come back with more men, and clear some of them out." Celes turned her head "We're retreating for now…"

"Are you kidding me?" she scoffed quietly "we've faced worse numbers before. If we leave them, they could start wandering into populated areas."

"Oh boy, here we go…" Lawfer mumbled.

"That was when we had a Valkyrie with us" Celes hissed, careful to let her voice get too loud "In case you haven't realized. The odds, are not in our favor."

"Neither are the odds of anybody unlucky enough to wander through here!" Phyress hissed back "you know, sooner or later, we're going to have to start taking risks."

"Ah. So that's what the 'cool kids' are calling 'being mauled to death by pony sized dogs' these days."

"Oh my gods, this again. You know, you could have come back at any age you wanted!"

"I know, and that's why I made sure I looked old enough to buy cigarettes!"

Lawfer cleared his throat and regretted it almost instantly. The two turned to him, and gave him a simultaneous "What!" The looks that they gave him, coupled with the way they identically put their hands on their hips, left no doubt that they were indeed sisters.

Lawfer swallowed the lump in his throat, and then proceeded bravely. "…C'mon you guys, you're family! If you work together, I know you can find a way to do this"

Phyress rolled her eyes; positive people were the trans-fats of society. All of them oversaturated with optimism, found everywhere, and impossible to get rid of.

"Look, we have a heavy class warrior, a mage, and another light warrior" Phyress gestured her head to Lawfer, then pointed to a section of road that went between two moderate sized hills. "If we lure them up the road a little, we can funnel them to keep from being surrounded. Not to mention that Roderick, the mage, and myself will have the high ground to rain down on them. They'll be dead before they even figure out what's going on."

"Well… I" Celes opened her mouth to protest, but had nothing. That actually is a pretty good plan. The massive corrupted dogs would be a serious threat, if allowed to surround them. However, one at a time, they wouldn't stand a chance against 2 light and 1 heavy warrior; especially with fire support.

"Tell me that's not a good plan." Phyress said smugly. Celes finally conceded.

"Fine… I'll go relay this to the others" she said, then paused she noticed that she only saw Lawfer behind her "Where are the others?"

The young spearman raised an eyebrow "what are you talking about? They're right next to…" He looked around and saw that they were indeed, nowhere to be seen. "The Hel?" he said as he whirled around "Did we leave them behind?"

Phyress looked genuinely worried. However, Celes pressed her fingers into her eyes, a vain attempt to stave off the headache that was now forming. "No… unfortunately we did _not_ leave them behind" Out of the three, she was the only one to have worked with them before, and knew exactly what was going on.

"You idiots have till the count of three, to show yourselves… one…" She hissed out quietly, so as to not alert the nearby Wargs.

Pyress looked around curiously, waiting to see what was going to happen, when the bush right next to her opened its eyes and spoke. "Something you need, lass?" The female archer reeled in horror, as she barely brought a hand over her mouth in time to stifle her scream. She already had found the man's mustache creepy as Hel, but now the sight of him will probably haunt her dreams for the rest of her life.

Cromm's face was covered in crazy, though intricate, patterns of green, black, and brown paint. He had various twigs and leaves, sticking out of his armor and clothing; presumably to distort his profile, rendering him invisible to visual que's. Even his massive war axe was similarly camouflaged, sporting its own paint, tiny twigs and leaves.

He looked like he some sort of Viking, black ops, Special Forces Commando.

Meanwhile, as Phyress was receiving a healthy dose of emotional scarring, to which she may never be able to look at shrubbery the same way again, Lawfer was busy living Arnold Schwarzenegger's worst nightmare. The former Artolian Knight never noticed it, not until it started moving anyway, but there was something waiting just beyond the trees. Something that looked like heat rising off the sidewalk, or maybe a mirage in the desert. Whatever it was, it terrified the hell out of him. Lawfer started taking steps backwards, backpedalling until he tripped on an ill grown root. However, just as the shimmering distortion was upon him. It stopped and made some sort of odd, low pitched, snarling noise that almost sounded like clicking. The air crackled, a sound often associated with the use of magic, and the distortion began to fill in with color. Within seconds, He found himself staring dumbfounded at the mage, known as Mylan, as he de-cloaked like the freaking _Predator_. If they had some means of areal transportation, he would be screaming to get to it right about now.

"Oh, sorry about that. I keep forgetting that nobody can understand me, while I have my distortion spell active." The mage stopped when he saw the blank look of horror on the spearman's face. "What?"

Still clutching at her chest in terror, Phyress leveled a deadly glare at the Viking. "I swear to the gods, if you ever sneak up on me like that again, I will kick you." Cromm looked genuinely apologetic (not easy when you're a bush with eyes). Phyress was about to ask why the hel he was dressed like that, when she stop and smelled the air. "Why in the gods, does it smell like a cat box around here?"

"Aye, sorry about that lass. Cougar pee does tend to smell a little strong." He said. Suddenly his face lit up a little "But on the bright side, we did-"

"No, no, no, we're not going to act like this is normal" Celes interrupted "This is the part of the conversation, where we acknowledge you guys having cougar urine."

"Is he going to be okay?" Mylan asked, and jerked a thumb at Lawfer. Everyone turned to the young spearman.

"It uses the jungle…" He whimpered, staring longingly at the tip of his own spear.

"…Riiight… So what's the deal with you guys?" Phyress asked "Not that I'd put it past Hrist to pick the real 'winners' of the lot. But this…" he gestured to the pedo-stached Viking in camo "this isn't normal."

"They're the ones who were lost in the woods with Arngrim." Celes sighed, and continued to rub her temples "_Please_, do not ask about it." She warned. Phyress raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding me? Now I _have_ to ask. Arngrim won't even talk about it." She turned to them. "So did you guys really spend a whole year in the Forest of Woe?"

"9 months-" Mylan said "-24 days" Cromm finished. Phyress couldn't help but notice the slightly deadened look in their eyes. Usually she'd only see that look on battle hardened warriors, who were asked to recall the worst battle they'd ever been in. Now she was really had to know. "You all made it out together. So you didn't have to eat each other obviously. So… what, did you guys live off the plants or something?"

"Are you kidding? Everything growing in that place was poisonous. And what wasn't poisonous…" Mylan shivered. Cromm spoke up; when he noticed that Mylan obviously didn't want to go on. "Tha ones that weren't poisonous were tryin to hunt _us_."

"That's ridiculous. Plants don't hunt."

"R-Ridiculous!" Mylan cried "Ridiculous is watching a hippo get eaten by a Venus Fly Trap, the size of a stage coach! Ridiculous is seeing an elk get dragged up a tree, like-" he quieted when Cromm put a large hand on his shoulder, and gave him a reassuring pat. "It's okay lad. Just remember what we learned in group therapy."

"You're right, your're right…" Mylan took deep breath and continued. "To answer your question, we had a bit of a rough start. We didn't know how to hide from other larger animals, so whenever we tried to hunt for something… well… they'd hunt back. So, until we had finally figured out ways to hide ourselves" he gestured to Cromms Camo "We had to get a little creative…"

XxX Forest of Woe XxX

_A fast moving stream cuts through the lush forests like a white jagged scar. The sounds of the wilds were drowned out by the steady roar of moving water, as creatures of all shapes and sizes came to drink from the only safe source of water that remained, ever available, to all who were brave enough._

_No one could deny its beauty, the small 1 to 3 foot waterfalls that dotted the river kept an ever present spray of white mist in the air. Much like the rest of the forest, this too teemed with life as hundreds of fish swam against the current, on their yearly trek to where they may breed and start the entire cycle all over again._

_Cromm, Mylan, and Roderick, huddle around Arngrim as the 4 sit near the edge of the water. The mercenary holds a make shift fishing pole, which is nothing more than a long stick and a bootlace, with the hopes of catching an easy meal. The 4 have obviously seen better days. Half-starved, their clothes are dirty, and reduced to rags that give them an almost feral look. Roderick is sporting a massive poison ivy rash on most of his skin, and Cromm is covered in bee stings. Mylan was faring the worst however, as he was showing the early signs of malaria._

_Arngrim, possibly because he was the most experienced in the outdoors, was probably faring the best. He was only covered in dozens of tiny scratch marks (the result of a bad run-in with an angry badger), so thus, had been put in charge of holding the makeshift fishing pole. _

"_We need sumthin to go with tha fish. Maybeh we shoulda looked fer some potatoes to fry." Cromm said, as he licked his chops, and stared over the mercenaries shoulder. "or some coleslaw! Ohhh coleslaw would hit tha spot lads!"_

"…_cook it with some lemon… and, and some garlic! Definitely need some garlic…" Rod said, as he furiously scratched at various parts of his body. _

_Mylan seemed intent on making tartar sauce out of grass, and mud. His new spin on the original recipe was probably a result of the heavy fever he was running at the moment. _

_The poles jerked, and everyone snapped to. Arngrim carefully pulled the fish in with surgeon like skill. Everyone else was practically bouncing behind him. _

"_No lad, ya have to reel it in! Use the reel!" The fact that their fishing pole was nothing more than a stick and a string, thus having no reel, was not lost on the mage. Mylan shot Cromm a sideways glance. "so… stupid… must… insult…." The mage looked within himself to find the strength and determination to say what needed to be said. _

"_Oh gods, we should have made a reel! Why didn't we make a reel?" Rod cried as he slapped his forehead with one hand, and continued scratching himself with the other. _

_Heroically, Mylan tried to lift himself, but ultimately failed and slumped back to the ground. "too… tired… to be snide." He said in defeat. _

"_shhhhh" Arngrim shushed and continue to pull in his catch. He might have been defusing a medieval nuke, with the caution and focus he put into his work. And finally, after what felt like an eternity, he lifted his bootstring to reveal that he had indeed caught a fish. _

_They cheered. The fish was no bigger than an ordinary pet goldfish, and would by no means feed anyone of them, let alone all 4. But they didn't care. To them it was the bottle of water to a man dying of thirst, the cavalry charging over the hill to save them all. It was their salvation._

_Suddenly, a much larger fish jumped out of the water and swallowed their Meal. The weight of their interloper proved too much for the poorly constructed stick-string fishing rod and snapped it in half. Pulling most of the rod, the fish, and the last shred of their hopes into the water. _

"_NOOOOOO!" The Viking cried, as he fell to the ground. Roderick was busy stomping a small daisy into the ground, pausing only to scratch himself, he vowed that if he has to die then he's gonna take as much nature with him as possible. Mylan, without the energy to do much else, was saving time by lying on the ground and getting himself acclimated to the 'being dead' position._

_Arngrim stared at the small chunk of stick left in his hand, defeated. Having traveled worlds, defeated things that only lurked in nightmares, stood at the…_

_Something caught his attention. _

_A large grizzly bear sat lazily near the edge of one of the drops in the water. This made a tiny waterfall where trout would be forced to jump out and over the edge, to continue whatever journey they had. He watched as the bear focused on the water below with single minded intent, and waited. After a few seconds, a sizable trout made a blind leap, only to find itself flying right into the mouth of the bear._

"_Guys…" he said as the bear happily devoured his meal "I think I got an idea…"_

XxX

"Well that's not so bad." Phyress said "So you guys caught jumping fish with a… net, or something?" She looked at the Viking/bush "Probably caught them with your mouths." She concluded.

Mylan shook his head and almost laughed "Don't be silly, that would have…" He stopped and tilted his head as he gave it some thought. "that… would have been an _excellent_ idea."

"Safer too." Cromm agreed.

Phyress gave the two an incredulous look. "You're kidding… What, are you going to tell me that you guys managed to steal fish from a Grizzly Bear?"

"No! …but that also would have been much easier." Mylan said, suddenly angry at himself for having not seen the much more obvious plans.

"Safer too" Cromm repeated

xXx

_The large 900 pound Grizzly Bear, sat near the edge of one of the tiny waterfalls and licked its massive paws, savoring the last bits of savory trout and continued to wait. It had decided that it would call it a day with one more. The majestic creature's attention was brought back to the water in front of it as he saw something move, just beneath the surface. The bear waited. _

_What came out of the water was no fish though. Arngrim all but exploded right out of the water, like some sort of suicidal man-shark. The former mercenary wrapped his hands around the Bears neck, which was easily the width of his waist, and put all of his weight into pulling it down. _

_Being that the predator was a little over 4 times his size; it teetered over the edge but managed to stand its ground. The only thing saving Arngrims's life was the fact that it needed its two front paws to stabilize itself. As soon as it regained its balance, the huge creature was going to proceed with operation 'damn nature, you scary!' on him. Unfortunately for him, it was at that moment that a Viking slammed into its back at a full tilt sprint, sending all three, tumbling end over end, into the water below. _

_There was a few moments of nothing, when suddenly Arngrim and Cromm came tearing out of the water._

"_Wait till the bubbles stop lad, WAIT TILL THE BUBBLES STOP!"_

_Using their arms to hold the bear under, they used the chaos of the moment to dodge its blind swipes. Right about that second, the air was filled with the sound of even more splashing as Rod and Mylan came screaming in from either sides of the river. The mage dragged the largest stick he could carry, while Roderick held a coconut sized rock over his head._

XxxxXxxxX

"Stop! Just stop right there. I don't want to hear anymore, I'm sorry I asked." Phyress said, unable to hide the horror in her voice. Something suddenly dawned on her "And where the heck is that Rod guy anyway?" she asked and started poking a nearby shrub with her bow, expecting it to say 'ow'. The Viking laughed.

"No lass, he's in tha tree over there." The young looking woman looked to the tree he pointed to. With perfect eyesight, she looked and… saw nothing. "Where? I don't see him." Though if the other two were any indication, there was probably a good reason. Mylan cleared his throat, "He's near the top."

Phyress looked where he said, carefully scoping every branch… "I still don't see him. Is he hiding behind that large bird…" she stopped, leveled a look at the two "He is bird, isn't he?"

Sure enough, the bird suddenly pulled back its beak and head to reveal a smiling, sandy haired young man. "Of course he is…" Phyress deadpanned. "Alright you guys, we've got work to do…" she stopped when Cromm cleared his throat. "What?" she groaned.

"We wer tryin to tell ya lass, we already took care of the Wargs!" Celes gave them a look that told her doubt, of the last part of his statement. "Did you now? Then tell me why I still see them out there." The Viking smiled brightly.

"Well you see, we…" he stopped. Suddenly he looked distracted as he gazed out over the fields like he'd just heard something. Oddly enough, Mylan and Roderick were doing the same (though they couldn't see Rod as he was up in a tree). Celes gave Cromm a suspicious look "What is it? Do you feel something?" she asked, trying to gage the man.

"err, uh…" the large man sputtered for a second, then looked to the mage as he shook his head, giving Cromm a subtle 'no'. "Err, nothing lass, nothing…" The large man dismissed. Celes didn't buy it for a second. "As we were sayin, we took care of the Wargs. I went out and poisoned their food!"

Phyress, whom like her sister, didn't miss the odd phenomena also gave them a dubious look. "You did?"

"Yup" Mylan said "And I went out and put the scent of cougars around the whole area. It's a little trick we learned in the forest. Wherever cougars marked their scent, animals tend to stay away." he said. Though it still sounded insane, it at least explained why he was carrying cougar urine. However, this also raised a whole lot of other questions such as; How does one milk a cougar of its urine? And, does he wash his hands before touching anything?

"Yup, and mah little buddy up there" Cromm pointed up at the tree "went around putting signs up, so everybody would be warned about the problem!" he said happily.

"you're kidding…" Phyress said, and looked through her magnifier. Sure enough, the corrupted wolves that were lounging about on full bellies were now just lying there, presumably dead. And a few of the late comers were now sniffing the air, the hair on their backs raised and suddenly they took off, heading back in the direction that they came. If she'd looked near the road, she would have seen the parchments that had been nailed to the tree of crude drawings of stick figure people being eaten by stick figure dogs.

Phyress gave a snort of approval, they were probably lunatics, but they worked well together at least. She handed the small telescope to Celes who also gave her own hum of approval. "Huh… Good job, I guess. But I know that you felt something just now, so we need to discuss…" she looked around. They were gone. Both sisters looked up at the tree, to see if they could see Roderick, but like the others he had simply vanished.

Like a fart in the wind…

"He can't possibly fly in that bird getup, can he?" Phyess asked as she looked around in the sky. It seemed impossible, but at this point she wouldn't doubt it.

"I honestly wouldn't know… But did you see what I saw?"

"Yah I saw it. They heard a Valkyrie's call… It can only mean one thing: Hrist is in Midgard again." Phyress turned to look at her sister "Do you want me to try to track them?" Celes looked thoughtful of the question.

"…No… If they survived the Forest of Woe, then they definitely know how to cover their own tracks. I daresay we are outmatched in the field of stealth." She continued to look for something, anything out of the ordinary, but she saw nothing. "We have to call a gathering. We have much to discuss." She said. But oddly enough, as serious as the moment was, Celes found herself smirking. "I think that the HappyCheese restaurant will still be open. We can set up a meeting ground there." Phyress bristled.

"I hate that place…" she muttered.

"Oh, come now." Her sister said in a soothingly evil voice "you get a little prize with every HappyCheese Meal! And they even have that little lemonade bar, so it's like _everyone_ can have adult drinks." She said happily. Phyress shot her a withering glare. "I killed you once already… I'll do it again if I have to." She said menacingly, causing Celes to grin even more.

Phyress had finally died at the well weathered age of 58. So naturally, being able to come back as a younger version of herself was a definite perk of being an Einherjar. However, in retrospect, she realized that she probably should've picked an age a little older than 17. While others were dealing with problems like; corruption of the land, and trying to keep peace in the few remaining populations on Midgard, Phyress's biggest plight was trying to convince the bouncer let her into the bar with her fake ID. And it just so happened that Phyress led most of their more important missions as she was one of the most capable field agents in existence. She pretty much had to sit in on every meeting they had.

So the end result was that most of the Einherjar had grown accustomed to planning, the future survival of the human race, next to a ball pit full of 9 year olds.

Not far from where they stood a Viking sized anthill, an oversized Gofer, and a trick of the light moved away from them, answering a call that only they could hear.

xXxX**X**XxXx

Hrist Valkyrie regained consciousness, in a manner that was not unlike what most pot smokers' experience: Confused, a little dazed, and _**hungry**_. The last one was by far the most noticeable. But that shouldn't be; Valkyries don't eat. Did they? Without trying to move, she called upon the light of the Divine tree, only to find darkness. There was nothing there. Still feeling a little queasy, she opened her eyes and saw the setting sun behind the bars of a slavers cage.

Hrist groaned.

She had hoped that the entire ordeal had been some bad hallucination. However, unlike Arngrim, Hrist never seemed to be that lucky. Well, at least she had dealt with the slavers. That's got to count for something, right? The voices of the captives that she rescued earlier, began to fill her ears.

"_Oh! I think she's waking up."_

"_Is she ok?"_

"_Give her some water."_

Hrist felt hands try to help her up, and she swatted them away. She wasn't going to let anyone help her like some kind of invalid. Without her connection to the tree she didn't have much, but she'd be damned if she was going to surrender her pride as well. The fallen Goddess soon found herself being the attention of about a dozen and half sets of curious eyes.

"You all would do well to keep your hands off of me." She warned darkly. Her statement left no misunderstanding that death was close at hand. All who knew her would immediately back off and give the volatile woman a wide berth. However, the problem was that nobody here actually did know her.

"Oh gods, thank you so much for saving us! We don't know what we would have done without you!" one of them said and threw her arms around her. Hrist instantly winced, as she found herself on the end of an all-out attack of affection. Kind of like Unholy Magic, she found that she had no defense against the absolute violation of every one of her personal boundaries.

"Get off of me!" she barked, but no one was listening.

One time, her journeys had taken her to the Far East, just below the equator. It was in the flat plains that she saw a powerful wildebeest get dragged down by an entire pride of lions. The quarter of a ton animal never stood a chance as its predators attacked it from every angle. Each one of them ensuring its demise as it was dragged under, in a sea of teeth and claws.

Hrist Valkyrie now sympathized for that creature, as more and more of the girls threw their arms around her, barraging her with endless questions and thank-yous. She would have tried to make a break for it, but as soon as she stood the youngest of the mortals, probably 5 or 6, had attached herself to her leg like a parasite.

And this was it… She had always imagined that things would come to an end in glorious combat. That the very whisper of her name would bring chills to the armed forces of entire nations. Never once, did she see herself being defeated by the power of… _love_, and _appreciation_.

X

The night had brought with it, the peaceful silence of slumber as the girls had finally fallen asleep. They pulled over, next to an abandoned farm house, and used its spacious barn as shelter for the night. In all honesty, she would have rather kept on pushing through the night, but their mule needed to rest.

It was unsurprising to see that the men of the Braxton fort neglected their animals. Hrist knew little of farm animals, but even she could recognize the signs of malnourishment. Needless to say, their beast was far happier under its new management as he was fed, and then found himself the star of a one mule petting zoo.

Hrist stood near the barn door, keeping an ever vigilant eye for anything that might pose a danger to them. The Valkyrie within her, her sense of duty, told her to leave them. She had to seek out the others and find out what had happened.

_Think like a Valkyrie._

Her own words to Silmeria, echoed back at her. Every moment she spent watching over them, was a moment wasted. They were a burden, and she had a mission that she needed to complete. Her warriors might very well be dead for all she knew, the mission beyond salvaging.

_Think like a Valkyrie._

Her jaw clenched

What the hell was that even supposed to mean? The last time she thought like a Valkyrie, she nearly killed their greatest hope for saving Midgard. She followed her orders so blindly that she nearly lost everything that ever meant anything to her. But what was she supposed to do then? Her duty was all she ever knew…

Hrist looked down, and saw that the youngest of the mortals was still attached to her leg. She looked at the little girl, like someone would probably look at a large tumor, and gave her leg a quick shake. She sighed when she held tight. Like an actual tumor, getting rid of her was proving to be difficult. All the little parasite did was stared up at her happily.

"Why do you stare at me so?"

"Because, she can sense that you're a good person."

Hrist's attention was brought a dark shape in the shadows. It was the farmer girl. Her name was… Amy if the goddess remembered correctly. She looked to be somewhere in her mid-teens, red hair. She had the look of a tomboy, as she wore a field hand's outfit. Her family had been killed, when their farm was overrun by the sea of dead. Like most of the other farms, they were situated outside of the walls, and were the first to be attacked.

They had no warning.

"Then I must question the young one's judgment." She said. Amy didn't say anything for a moment. She carefully walked to the edge of the barn door that Hrist stood at. The Valkyrie was soon aware, that Amy was giving her an assessing look, trying to gauge her.

"So, are you some kind of soldier, or something? I've never seen anybody fight like that before."

"I am… an agent, of sorts." Hrist paused for a moment, when a breeze rustled the trees outside. Without the ability to sense souls, or anything evil for that matter, she found herself dependent on sight and sound. Something that she was finding to be way harder in practice, than it sounded on paper. After another second, she decided that it was nothing.

"I have been sent on a mission… one that I fear has gone poorly." Poorly was the understatement of the year. Woke to find herself stranded, and powerless. Then to wake up to the undead roaming the earth, and hearing that Artolia had been destroyed, in a day, only made things worse. She needed to find some answers.

She needed to know that Arngrim and the others were safe.

"I must get back to it. Immediately." She said, and there was another long moment of silence, and Amy voiced her fear.

"You're not going to leave us… are you?" Hrist looked her in the eye. Amy was unsure of how to react, to the intensity of her gaze.

"It would be in my best interests. I have far more important things to do…" she said, then sighed.

"but… I know that it would be wrong to do so." The farmer found herself relieved.

"Thank you. It's good to see that there's still decent people left in the world. Pa used to tell me that people always forget to follow their gut, and do what's right."

The way she said it caused the Valkyrie to smirk. The instruction to follow the all-knowing, mysterious, and ever present 'gut' sounded like something that Arngrim would say. She resisted the urge to tell her, that her 'gut' was currently telling her to go eat another ration of salted pork, which the Braxton men had left behind.

"What?" Amy asked, as she examined the odd look on her face.

"Nothing. You merely reminded me of someone."

"Did I remind you of **Arngrim**?" she said scandalously. The mention of his name, made the Valkyrie glare suspiciously at her. "How do you know that name." she demanded.

"You kept saying it in your sleep." The young woman closed her eyes and clasped her hands together. She began to wistfully chant his name, in a tone that Hrist very much decided that she didn't like "Arngrim… oh, Arngrim… _Arngrim_" she kept repeating it, each time sounding a little more lustfully than the last.

She reserved glares like the one she was currently giving her for special occasions. She grinned cheekily.

"So spill. Who is he? Is he cute? Is he a good _lover_?" The last part she dragged out, causing the Hrist Valkyrie to turn red.

"We are partners" she said, then turned a darker shade of red "-as in we work together… as friends."

"Uh huh, partners right. And what about that whole 'Oh Arngrim, only _you_ can seed _my garden._" admittedly, she had made up that last part and found it to be entirely worth it.

The dark maiden sputtered for a few seconds "I-I don't even know what that means!"

There was a soft thud that caused both women to look down. The little girl that had attached herself to Hrist's leg had dropped to the ground, sound asleep. Hrist sneered victoriously at the sleeping child.

"Ha! It was foolish, to think that you could outlast the likes of me." She said, imperiously. Her victory was cut short when she saw the look that Amy was giving her.

"What? I take my victories where I can get them."

XxxX

About a mile and a half, from the still smoldering remains of Artolia, a sewer drain grate shook with a loud 'pang', which reverberated through the night. From the inside, Arngrim frowned at the metal bars, which only allowed water to seep through. He had been right about following the water, though now he had another obstacle in their way. The bars were way too thick to try and pry off, which caused the former mercenary to groan.

"Well? I wait, with baited breath, to see the next part of your daring rescue." Jelanda huffed from behind him. This caused the large man to peer his head through the bars, and look up to the sky for any storm clouds. If he was lucky, then he'd be able to use his sword as a lightning rod, and put himself out of his own misery.

Alas, the night was clear.

"Get your head back inside of here. I'm not in the mood for your foolishness, and I want to get out of this decrepit sewer!" Arngrim gave an automatic 'yes ma'am' and began to look around the edges, for any weak points, or if luck would permit it, some kind of release.

"I'm waiting." This caused the man to slump his shoulders, then finally turn to face her.

"You know, you're really not helping out our situation here. Just give me a minute here, and I'll think of something, alright?"

"Move!" she pushed out him out of the way and walked up to the inch thick bars of solid iron. "The thought dying from a god awful disease was bad enough, but waiting to die of old age while you _think_ of something is too much." She huffed up to the bars and did her own examination of grating.

Arngrim found himself watching in fascination as she studied the iron for a second, then placed both hands, one on either side, of the grating and began to chant. The air began to crackle, as she spoke in a language he didn't even understand. "_Dea frigoris, da mihi virtutem tuam__…_"

Her eyes began to glow an eerie luminescent blue, as she continued her spell "_adhuc corda sua et in furore tuo unleashe__…_" Arngrim shivered as an arctic wind suddenly assailed him. Then finally she spoke the last word. "FREEZE!"

In a flash of bluish white light, the bars suddenly covered in a layer of frost that was almost a half inch thick. Jelanda staggered back a step, clearly exhausted, Arngrim managed to catch her by the shoulders before she might have fallen over.

"You okay?" He asked. She gave a nod then pointed at the bars. "I've weakened the bars. You should be able to break them." The mercenary nodded, he stepped up to the frosty grate and proceeded to live out every adult male's dream.

With a swift kick, Arngrim shattered an inch of solid iron like it ain't no thang.

"Heh" he grunted with a smirk, feeling particularly manly at the moment. "That was pretty _cool_." He said, and turned to the young princess. "Get it? I said it was cool because you free-"

"I get it, you moron!" she cut him off. Arngrim sighed then deflated a little. Sometimes, he felt like women just didn't understand the fine art of awesome punning.

Seriously, what would the world be like without awesome puns or one-liners?

Xx world without puns xX

_The town's Constable steps into the aftermath of a chaotic scene. A once peaceful bakery is left in absolute shambles, as flour, and broken baking utensils are left strewn about a once clean kitchen. In the center of the room is a dead body, the scene of a terrible murder. A window is shattered and has glass everywhere, near the center lies a brick with a note attached it. _

'_Pay Me'_

_The Constable soon hears footsteps approaching; he looks up to see another investigator. The two greet each other and soon get down to business. _

"_Neighbors reported that baker here owed a substantial amount to the local crime syndicate." The news causes the constable to shake his head. He reaches into his pocket as he speaks to his fellow investigator._

"_I guess you could say…" He pulls out a pair of sun shades and puts them on "that the baker didn't have the prerequisite amount of OTH to pay." (YEAAA-...oh wait)_

xXXx

Arngrim shivered. Quite frankly, that was a world that he didn't want to live in…

Together they stepped out of the sewer, and into the clean night air. Arngrim helped the princess down, and they took in their surroundings. They were about a mile south of Artolia and seemed to be alone, at least for the moment anyway.

"…My kingdom…"

Arngrim turns to her voice. Jelanda looks at the massive pillar of smoke that was once Artolia. Fires still raged, giving an orange ambient glow to the air. To Arngrim, it was like looking at the world through hel colored glasses. The now former Princess takes a numb and involuntary step towards the destruction.

"This can't be right…" The young woman turns to the Einherjar. Under the soft orange glow, her skin looks pale.

"Where are we? This can't be Artolia! You have to tell me where we are!"

Somebody once told Arngrim that people go through 5 stages of grief, whenever they die or lose something dear to them. To be honest, it was something that he was far more familiar with than he ever cared to admit. Being a mercenary meant giving a lot of good people, a lot of bad news. A quarter of his jobs that he was hired for were search and rescue. Some poor bastard would go out into the wood, or make a trip to go trade with another town and never return.

Arngrim didn't like those jobs. Sometimes you get lucky and find them in time. Fight off the monster, or bandits, or whatever, and return them home.

Unfortunately, more often than not, you'd only find their remains.

"Tell me where we're at!" Jelanda demanded. Arngrim lowered himself to meet her eye to eye. He spoke gently, though remaining resolute in his words.

"This is Artolia kid. The city' been destroyed, and your father died trying to buy people as much time as he could for them to escape… I'm sorry kid."

Denial was the hardest stage to get through. Arngrim hated himself at the moment, but he had be careful not to give the girl false hope. He had to be direct, leave no room for anything but the truth.

"NO! Artolia wouldn't just die like this! This isn't true, we have an army!" She tore away from him and looked back to the massive pillar or smoke. "We have an army…" she said sadly. Arngrim said nothing, allowing her to see it for herself. For a long moment, nothing was said as they stood there in the night. Arngrim could never know what was going through her head for that long moment of silence. He guessed he didn't want to know. Finally she turned to him, tears of pain and fury streamed down her face. Jelanda was angry.

"Why? Who would do something like this? What did we _ever_ do to anybody to deserve this?"

"I don't know kid… Sometimes these things just happen."

Arngrim truly hated himself at the moment, but it was the only answer he had. The only conclusion he could offer, was the one that he himself had drawn from his travels. The world wasn't fair. Good people, honest good people, were often turned to victims for being in the wrong place and time. How the hell do you tell someone who hasn't ever seen it with their own eyes? What could honestly be said to someone who literally just watched their entire life get turned to ash?

"I have money." She said "I'll give you everything I have." She said as her voice cracked "There has to be something that you can do. Somebody that you know." She said, trying to bargain with him. Arngrim's heart broke, as he watched the last shreds of her composure began to break.

"Please do something…"

"I'm sorry kid. Even if I could do something, it's already too late. Everybody's dead."

Her eyes sparkled further in grief and sorrow; slowly she sank to her knees. The mercenary put his arms around the depressed young girl. Quietly, she sobbed into his shoulder and Arngrim honestly wished that there was something that he could do for her. People had to find their own way out of their depression. They needed some purpose, or maybe some goal to live for.

When life no longer has meaning, it could be almost considered a cancer. If left alone, it will eat destroy a person from the inside out.

"C'mon pr-…Jelanda." She didn't need any more reminders of what she had just lost "we have to keep moving. We won't last long if they find us here."

"What happens now?" she asks. "What am I supposed to do now? I don't know how to survive on my own." Arngrim was about to tell her that the only thing she could do was to keep moving forward. It was cheap advice, but it was the best that he had.

Unless…

"…Come with me." Jelanda looked up to the man. Arngrim could see the question in her eyes. To be honest, it was the same question he was asking himself at the moment. Even if she no longer had a kingdom, to leave her alone was almost asking for someone to kidnap her, in the hopes of ransoming her. He honestly didn't think that leaving her alone with the other refugees would be a good idea. However, Hrist was back, he could feel it in his blood. Maybe she would know what to do. Jelanda already proved herself to be a capable healer, who knew what other spells she knew.

Sure she was a little too soft for the open road, but she could learn. He didn't think that she'd be dead weight, or become a burden on them.

"Come with me." He repeated "I'm about to go meet up with my boss. Maybe we can get back at whoever did this." She wiped the tears from her eyes, and looked up at him.

"What about my kingdom?

"It's gone."

The promise of vengeance was a poor goal to live for, but it was better than resolving herself to waste away. None the less, it was reason to get up in the morning and face the new tomorrow.

"Alright" she said with saddened acceptance. "I'll go with you." She felt a large and callused hand on the side of her face.

"Don't worry kid. Things suck now, but it'll look better in the morning."

"…Do you mean that?"

"I promise."

* * *

**To everyone who still reads this, i just wanna say thank you. You're so patient, and that's something that i truly appreciate. Trying to write a humorous story is hard to do, when you're finalizing a divorce. **

**But on the bright, S.A.B.I now comes with action-alimony-payments to supplement her meager income. :D So I'm sticking it to the man, almost literally!  
**

**And this has also lead me to make a major adjustment to the future of this wonderful little distraction, i so lovingly call a story. At first, i had only intended for this to be sort of friendship thing, with loads of sexual tension. (kind of like a large episode of the Xfiles) Now however, I've decided to make this a full blown romance fic. Worry not though, there is a _LOT_ of fun, and laughs, to be had with something like this. Just because my love life sucks, doesn't mean that theirs has to as well.**

** Side note: I had intended to do a parody of the Shawshank Redemption for Arngrim's and Jelanda's escape from the sewers, but it didn't really pan out. so meh**

**Next Chapter: Reunion Tour**

**Suggestions are always welcome, so gimme a shout!**

**V**


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